#it follow the directions of the cursor. very cool | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

theunexpectedexpectations · 1 year ago

Text

Freya walked into the dark cabin and could see what dim light the moon offered to the room. It was nicely decorated and had old unhung pictures sitting by the stairs. It was too dark for her to worry about what the place *looked* like, what was important was getting sleep. She looked around the first floor and there was no bedroom on the level. Walking back into the living room she made her way up the stairs to the second level.

Freya noticed the bar and it was fully stocked. Nice. She wasn't much of a drinker, but she may make an exception soon just not tonight. Next to the bar was a pair of double doors she walked over and opened them. She was amazed, the room was pretty tasteful, she wasn't sure how she felt about candles above her head, but they appeared to be electric, 'Whew..' she thought.

The bed was decently sized and the room was at least much bigger than the one she had been living in the past 8 years. The room even came with a large full length mirror and computer in the corner closest to the doors. She spotted the laundry bin, 'Clothes...' she thought to herself, 'I wonder if the computer has internet? Maybe I can order some things.'

She walked over to the computer desk and powered on the tower. The screen lit up the room in a cool tone and loaded up rather quickly. Lucky for her there was no password it just popped open to the desktop. She moved the cursor down to the bottom right and spotted she was connected to a network.

"Perfect." she said.

She quickly shopped a few online stores for somethings she had been saving on her wish lists and expedited the orders. Normally, her dad would purge the wish lists before her birthday or Christmas for her. She wondered when or if her life will ever return to any type of normalcy.. it only seemed to be getting weirder and weirder. She powered the computer down and stood to look out the window, she let out a breath at the view she had.

It's was gorgeous. The pond, the sky, the trees. Even though the cottage had the same type of view she lived for these sceneries.

The stars twinkled and she looked at the new landscape she would have for however long life would bless her with it. 'Dad sure would love it here, too. He was a sucker for this type of stuff, must be where I got it from.' she smiled. Something in that moment told her that everything was going to be okay, she finally felt like she could relax after everything that happened today. She stared out for a few moments longer and watched the fish splash around in the little pond.

She walked over to the bed and stripped down to her underwear and tank top. 'This will be what it is until clothes get here I guess.' she thought. She laid down in the bed and got comfy pretty quickly. Before she knew it she fell into a deep sleep.

/splash/

Freya panted as she hear the footsteps behind her getting closer and closer. She turned, but she could only see trees surrounding her. She felt like if she didn't stop soon she was going to run out of breath, but whatever was there was right on her heels. She began to cry and tried to run as fast as she could.

She jumped over the log blocking the way and felt her leg almost give out on her. The adrenaline rush from that kind of helped her to keep going. 'When did I get outside?!' she thought, 'When did I get in the woods?' She almost felt as though she recognized the area, but from where? When had she been there?

She kept feeling the sense of familiarity with the area and before she knew it she was running from nothing. Whatever was chasing her had stopped. So she stopped and looked around. Tall pines towered over her and giant rocks surrounded her. The area did in fact look very familiar, but she couldn't quite remember.. The air felt lighter and different.

"Freya.." a voice said faintly.

She turned and looked around, but there was no one, "Hello?" she asked the void forest.

"Freya.." the voice said again.

She felt like she recognized it. She followed in the direction the voice came from.

/snap/

She turned around, startled and trying to pinpoint where the sound came from. She didn't see anything, but she heard some movement in the bushes and decided to get closer. She peered into the leaves and out popped a rabbit that scurried off deeper into the tall trees. She stood up feeling a little silly when a wave of fear hit her, she got the chills instantly. She felt like something or someone was standing behind her.

Freya turned slowly to see what she had been dreading since the day she left it in the woods. The tall, intimidating structure stood over Freya making her feel small. There it is again, the Portal that haunts her almost every night now.. She swore it had to have eyes the way she felt like she was being watched.

"Freya. Come closer.." the Portal beckoned.

Freya's chest lit up in a deep blue light and the Portal began to make a strange sound. She stared up at the symbols on the structure and the light grew brighter.

She didn't want to step closer, but she didn't have control of her body. She couldn't stop herself from walking toward it.

"Freya, step into the light." the Portal called out.

Internally she was grinding the breaks, but her body wouldn't listen it only listened to the Portal. She walked until she was within a few feet of the swirling, ambient light.

'What is it with this damn Portal? What does it want from me?' she thought.

Small little lights began to swirl around her and she kept walking toward the Portal.

'NO!' she was yelling in her head, 'STOP! DON'T GO IN THERE!!'

"Step into your destiny, Freya. It's time." the Portal said.

Her body moved autonomously. She felt completely hopeless and terrified.

She took another step and the Portal grew louder and brighter.

'I have to wake up! This cannot be real, this can't be happening!' Freya thought to herself.

Her body radiated the blue light as she got closer to the Portal, it started sucking her in.

She walked to the Portal and stepped into the light. She was blinded for a moment, but when the light faded she looked at her hands that had instinctively cupped over her eyes. Bloody. She held a dagger in her hand that was covered in blood as well and looked out at what was in front of her- she gasped in horror.

The sky that was normally a pale blue was violated by orange. The clouds hung like black vapor in the sky. The air was thick and hot, she almost choked. There it was.. the smell of blood. Heavily. She looked down at herself again.. Bloodied. She dropped the dagger and heard it sink into something. She screamed- it was her father. She was standing over her mother and father and thousands of other people who laid dead and brutally mutilated. She screamed again crying out, "NO!"

"NO!!!" she yelled again, "This is supposed to happen!"

Freya lunged up out of bed.

Panting she looked around to see the room that she just procured from Harrison. She felt how dry her mouth was and stood up to get a glass of water. She grabbed her phone to check the time.

7:34

'Geez, I didn't really sleep for too long, but it felt like an eternity..' she thought to herself.

She opened up the double doors and walked through them. She noted to fully stocked bar again and walked down the stairs. This time the cabin was showered in sunlight and you could see everything much better.

The living room was cute and had a decent sized tv, Freya couldn't remember the last time she had time to sit and watch anything. She considered renting something or seeing if there were any streaming services available on there. She walked through the tall doorway into the kitchen and almost fell down the two little steps into the room.

'Right, there are steps there..' she thought kind of snickering at herself.

She shook her head and looked around the kitchen finally. She spotted a cute little espresso machine next to the charcuterie board. She was definitely going to need caffeine today. She glanced over at the oven and saw a cute little cook book propped open on a stand. There was a beverage tray with a giant metal pitcher that looked pretty expensive. To her left there was the sink and kitchen table with a teapot, for such a small place a little island would fit nicely in the middle still. Along with cooking and ballet, she actually took a strong liking to woodworking and building things. She was what you could consider a jack-of-a-trades.. even though she hated the saying: "Jack of all trade, but master of none." She always mastered everything she tried and it wasn't because she was good at these things, she assumed it was mainly luck and hard work.

She swallowed and felt how dry her tongue was.

'Right.. Water..' she thought. She walked over to the sink and opened a few cabinets until she found the glassware. She filled the cup up with water not really caring that it was from the tap she *needed* it.

She chugged nearly the whole glass satiating her thirst. She pulled the cup away and caught her breath. She took the moment to look out the window to her left which had a patio with a seating area and a grill. There was a clothesline also hung up in the back yard and she got a excited.

'I've never hung my clothes before, but I've always wanted to try.' she thought. She had the urge to go upstairs, but was quickly interrupted by the thuds of knocking at the front door.

/knock, knock, knock/

She stood in the kitchen motionless at first almost fearing it could be that veiled man. But how would he even know where she is.. there's no way he could find her now there were no leads. After the relief washed over her she realized if it wasn't the veiled man, then it was someone else. She looked down at her attire. Underwear and a tank top isn't the best way to greet someone at the door, she took her chance and tried to run up the stairs and grab her clothes.

Just as she made it up the two stairs out of the kitchen the front door opened and Harrison walked through closing the door. He stopped in his tracks when she turned to see Freya.

She stood there completely caught off guard and embarrassed. Harrison looked at her and then blushed realizing he was just staring at her he turned around quickly.

"I thought you were going to text me?!" Freya yelled, quickly grabbing the throw blanket she spotted on the couch.

"I- I did.. But I didn't get a response." he stammered out face still hot from embarrassment, "I knew about the veiled guy you were so worried about, so I decided to check on you besides I don't know you I also had to make sure you didn't ransack the place and take everything."

"I'm not a thief though! If I was I wouldn't have helped you close up last night, a thief wouldn't have anything to gain from helping someone!" she argued.

"Right. I just thought maybe- nevermind- it doesn't matter. I also wanted to bring you something I snagged for you. I figured you had nothing to wear since you had nothing with you. It's better than walking around like *that*." he said looking down at his feet feeling his face get flustered again.

A little embarrassed still she saw the polite gesture and walked over to table where the clothes were folded up. She grabbed and made her way to the stairs.

"Thank you, I'll be right back." she said running up the steps.

Harrison nodded still not looking at her just fixated on the window.

He stared out trying to sweep away the embarrassment. He didn't actually expect her to be so fit, she was wearing a sweatshirt so it was hard to tell yesterday. He felt himself getting a little worked up about the sight, but tried to just keep his composure. He tried to be a gentleman about the situation, but he couldn't really help replaying it in his head. If he wasn't a better man things would have gone down differently.

'She isn't here to be ogled or wooed though, Harr. Keep it together.' he thought to himself. 'She just went through to traumatic shit, she doesn't need some guy trying to mess with her right now.'

For now he decided it was best to just bury that in the back of his mind, he doesn't know anything about her still. Not only that, but she had no idea who he is or what he does either.

Upstairs, Freya finished buttoning the dress and looked in the mirror. It fit nicely he was a pretty good guesser as far as sizing goes. She made the bandana out of the sweatshirt she was wearing yesterday thinking that destroying old clothes would destroy the awful memories of yesterday. She gave a fake little smile to herself and walked away.

'Everything will be okay.' she said to herself.

She walked down the stairs and Harrison turned to look at her.

'Beautiful.' he thought to himself watching her walk over to him.

"Not bad, kid." he said to her.

"I'm not a kid, I'm going to be 17 soon!" she exclaimed.

"Hm.. still a kid to me though." he said smiling at her jokingly.

She rolled her eyes, "Oh yeah? Well old are you then? You can't be *much* older than me."

"Wouldn't you like to know?" he said withholding the information.

"Hey, that's not fair you can't just ignore the question then answer the question with a question!" she argued.

"All jokes aside, though, we should talk in the kitchen I do have more information on the café opening up if you want to talk seriously." he said.

"Fine, I'll cave for now, but I'll figure your age out." she threatened.

He smiled and they walked into the kitchen, he felt a little anxious about the conversation. But he felt like he could trust her seeing that she didn't steal anything and is actually here. He was a little worried she may have been looney, but their talks said otherwise.

#disappearance #freya greene #sims 4 screenshots #sims 4 story #thriller #mystery #suspense #unexpected expectations

1 note · View note

britt-writes · 3 years ago

Note

hi lovely i have a request for you because youre work is absolutely amazing aHH ! could you maybe so some headcanons/oneshot on lucas making his gf cry cause he's getting all pissed with his computer n is getting angry and then accidentally takes it out on his gf?? there's no pressure at all, I really do love your work and I'm so happy you write for Lucas <33

Thank you so so much, I really appreciate it, and I'm happy to do this request for you! I went for a little drabble with this one. Hopefully, I didn't make you wait too long for it. 💕 (I added a cut since it was getting a bit long and, and I don't want to invade people's dashes.)

Prompt: Lucas making his girlfriend cry

Drabble title: Poor Choice of Words

Word Count: 2008

With the semester coming to a close, you found yourself balls deep in what felt like never-ending exams to study for and detailed research papers to type. Needless to say that the hefty accumulation of college work had been piling up on you, leaving you stressed and fatigued, ultimately leaving you with no motivation or desire to get work done; just this huge blank whenever you stared at your books.

Barely able to hold yourself together with this massive headache from the free-for-all death match your thoughts were having up there, you were in desperate need of some quiet and rest. You were sure that you’d eventually break down if you didn’t.

Lucas was nice enough to let you get that quiet you needed, letting you take over his bed to nap and rest your head and eyes while he tapped away on his computer. He kept it down, which you appreciated. He’d always been the strong, silent type of guy. The only noises you could hear were the clicking of his keyboard and his foot tapping at the ground—a little tic of his, being rather fidgety.

You hadn’t quite fallen asleep, being quite restless, but you did occasionally lull in and out of consciousness. Maybe it was the damn heat wave that hit Dulvey that kept you up, or maybe it was your headache, but nonetheless, it felt nice to lie down and do nothing, worrying about nothing.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed since you had decided to lie down in your lover’s bed, but as the seconds ticked by, you could hear Lucas’ foot tapping becoming faster, seemingly aggressive. His fingers had also joined in, just tapping at the desk.

You didn’t think much of it at first, brushing it off as Lucas simply being his regular, fidgety self; he’d probably stop in a minute or so. But then you heard a low growl from him, followed by a series of curses muttered underneath his breath.

“C'mon, ya slow piece o’ shit,” you heard him say.

Shifting around, you faced him, opening your eyes. Lucas was having some issues with his computer, and one quick glance showed that his programs and even cursor were running at abysmally sluggish speeds. You weren’t sure how you hadn’t heard it at first, but his computer’s fans were loud as hell, probably working their asses off. When was the last time Lucas cleaned them? The poor old box computer sounded like it was suffering.

“Motherfucker!” Lucas suddenly yelled out, nearly jolting you out of your skin.

You flinched as he began smacking the computer, making you sit up on the bed as you stared at Lucas while his patience ran thinner with every passing second. You remained still and quiet, worried about his state of anger, but also unsure if you should intervene in an attempt to get him to simmer down. Truth be told, you hated watching people get angry, even if the anger wasn’t directed at you; it put you in a state of anxiety, wanting nothing more to keep the situation from escalating further.

“Aw, what the hell?! What now?!” He yelled as his screen seemed to freeze.

“Um, hey, babe?” You intervened, sounding very meek.

He didn’t reply, continuing to aggressively fumble with his computer, still spewing insults and curses at the device. Maybe that should have been your cue to leave Lucas be, but you didn’t take it, wanting to help him.

“Babe?” You said again, a little louder this time in case he hadn’t heard you the first time over the sound of his own voice.

“What?” Lucas said rather sharply.

“Do you want me to help or something? How about you turn it off and try cleaning the fans to start off? Then, maybe-”

Lucas whirled around to face you, the annoyed look on his face immediately shutting you up.

“What the fuck would yer dumbass know? Shit’s already fucked, so I don’t need it worsenin’. I don’t need yer fuckin’ help, so mind yer goddamn business,” he said before going back to his computer, not paying you any further mind.

You had never been on the receiving end of Lucas’ outbursts until now. Maybe you were being too sensitive, but you couldn’t help the tears threatening to fall. Sure, you and Lucas have insulted each other plenty of times in the past, but it was all obvious playful banter and teasing between the two of you with no ill intentions. This time around, he held this dead serious expression and tone, making you feel like he actually thought that of you.

Lucas was short-tempered, prone to outbursts at the slightest inconvenience, and you knew that he ran his mouth faster than his brain during those moments. He often did or said things that he didn’t truly mean, letting his anger get the best of him. He probably hadn’t even realized what he said, but that still didn’t mean that you didn’t feel as if your heart shattered in millions of pieces at his poor choice of words.

Wordlessly, you lied back down, facing the wall as you curled up underneath the blankets. A few tears streamed down your cheeks as you tried your best to keep quiet, not wanting to make a scene. You just hoped that Lucas would soon enough calm down on his own accord.

~~~~~~

He’d say that a little over half an hour had passed since his computer started acting up, but Lucas had since abandoned the device to fool around on his phone, feet propped atop his desk. At least he was distancing himself from the source of his anger.

Maybe about a year ago, Lucas would still be fuming and smashing things around his room, but ever since you came into his life, he’s been getting better at taking breaks, not fixating on whatever was irritating him in order to cool down a bit. You were there to comfort him, listen to his venting and clear his head.

Overall, a model lover with the patience of a saint to deal with him— Lucas himself would be the first to say it.

So, why the fuck did he yell at you the way he did earlier? He absolutely hated any asshole who dared make you upset; Lucas always promised to make quick work of anybody who hurt you, and all you had to do was say the word.

But now, Lucas was the one to feel like the biggest shithead ever.

Earlier feelings of fury were slowly being replaced by regret, which was an odd feeling. It was a first for him; he’s never really given a shit enough to feel regret or shame for his actions, even when he knew that he was in the wrong. But it felt different when it involved you. Maybe he still felt anger, anger at himself for treating you like shit when all you wanted to do was help him because you cared.

You were already stressed enough in the first place with all the work you had to do, and Lucas wasn’t helping by taking out his anger on you. It was an accident; he really regretted it.

Looking back at you, Lucas saw that you were still curled on his bed. You hadn’t said anything in the last half hour, so he wondered if you had fallen asleep, though you may just be ignoring him after the things he said. He didn’t like that thought, but he knew he deserved it.

He could feel panic settling in his chest— what if he fucked up for good? What if you drew the line there? What if this was the moment you realized you could do better than him? What if you walked out on him?

Those ‘what if’ questions made him nauseated. Lucas was shit at showing it, but you were his entire world. This relationship was his only motivation to even bother trying in life. Without you, he was sure that he’d either end up thrown into the streets or in jail— just some loser with no chance in hell to make it.

He had to calm the fuck down, he thought. He knew damn well that having an internal breakdown over something that was his fault in the first place wasn’t going to get him anywhere.

He stood up from his chair, cautiously approaching his bed, almost unsure of what he should do. It was like he was second-guessing himself— maybe he should let you sleep it off.

But Lucas ultimately decided to join you in bed, slowly scooting against you and draping his arm over your waist. He already felt like shit, but the feeling only worsened when he felt you flinch, and after an uncomfortable minute of silence, Lucas finally found it in himself to say something.

“Are ya mad at me?” He asked.

And he wanted nothing more than to ram his head against drywall, not impressed with the way he chose to open up.

“Are you mad at me?” You countered in a shaky tone that split his heart in two.

“Wasn’t mad at ya… jus’ the computer,” he said.

“Do you really think I’m dumb?” You asked, voice nearly inaudible.

“C'mon baby, y'know I don’t,” he said.

The silence on your end was goddamn unnerving, absolutely stressing him out. As the seconds ticked by, Lucas could feel his breathing become ragged and heavy, the atmosphere making him increasingly more anxious.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said, realizing that he should have said that in the first place.

Lucas didn’t remember the last time he apologized to someone. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if he ever did in his lifetime.

“I just wanted to help,” you said, voice quivering. “But you just yelled at me instead.”

And then the sobs came; Lucas could feel your body shake against him. Oh, God. He made you cry. Lucas didn’t think it was possible for him to feel any shittier at the moment, but here he was.

“No-no-no-no— don’t cry,” Lucas shushed, holding you tighter and burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“I’m so fuckin’ sorry, baby,” he apologized again. “I know ya just wanted to help, 'cause yer just the sweetest thing out there.”

“You looked so serious… like you really meant it,” you managed to say through choked up cries. “I feel like I’m the stupidest bother to you.”

“Didn’t mean a goddamn word of it. I know it ain’t no excuse, but I wasn’t thinkin’ right. Aw, shit— I’m the stupid piece o’ crap here. Yer hella smart, darlin’; there ain’t one part o’ ya that’s dumb,” he said. “Y'know I love ya, right?”

You were taking your sweet time to respond, making Lucas all the more anxious. He thought that he had royally fucked up beyond repair.

“Do you… d'ya still love me?” He asked, finding himself ridiculously pathetic for asking such a thing; the shakiness in his tone didn’t help either.

“Of course I do,” you said.

Lucas found some relief in the swift response at his question— no stuttering, no vague answers, no skipped beat. Your crying had also started to die down.

“So, you ain’t gonna, ya know, leave or somethin’?” He asked.

“No. I wouldn’t break up with you over something like this. It’s not worth our entire relationship,” you said. “I’m just a little sad over it. It’s… not really fun getting yelled at by someone you love, you know?”

Lucas nodded. “Yeah.”

Of course nobody liked getting into fights with their loved ones. He sure as hell knew that he’d blow a fuse if you yelled and insulted him the way he had.

“I have anger issues…” he mumbled.

“I know,” you said. “But you’re not as bad as you used to be.”

Lucas could only promise to get better going forward, and with your encouragement, he was sure that he’d be able to do it. But he’d have to try hard, and he knew it.

“Y'ave been hella stressed lately. Want me to help you study later, or somethin’?” He offered.

“If you have time, that’d motivate me.”

“Yeah, I got time. Don’t got much to do in the first place.”

You turned around to face him, wiping the remainder of your tears and offering a small smile before pressing your lips against his in a soft, sweet kiss. You then nuzzled Lucas’ chest as he cradled you protectively against him.

Apology accepted.

#fanfiction #lucas baker #lucas baker x reader #reader insert #requests #resident evil 7 #headcanons #ficlet #drabbles

113 notes · View notes

autistic-paul · 5 years ago

Text

You Cut Through All the Noise - Chapter 1

Summary:

Alice's parents are fighting a lot, and she's struggling. The whole situation isn't ideal for Bill, either. At least they aren't alone.

I have a lot of feelings about Bill and Paul being best friends, about Bill trying to be a good dad, and about the fact that Paul babysat Alice. She canonically thinks he's cool. So I wrote about it!

Tags: Bill & Alice, Alice & Paul, Bill & Paul, Divorce, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Autistic Paul, Assume he’s autistic in everything I write, though it’s much less explicit in this one, Paul is everyone’s emotional support, Alice is wonderful and trying her best

Chapter 2 is here!

AO3, or under the cut! 1454 words.

Alice was smarter than anyone gave her credit for. Sure, her grades in school were good. She’d always been a decent student. Teachers liked her. Why wouldn’t they? She was a good student, handing in her work on time, raising her hand when no one else did. There was nothing quite like seeing a little gold star on her test, or her mother’s grin when she made honor roll. Her dad took every opportunity to boast that his little girl was going places, Yale, probably. He was so proud. It made Alice uncomfortable sometimes, but it was better than the alternative. She wanted him to be proud of her, so she blushed and accepted his overenthusiastic praise. Sometimes she wished that he’d notice other things, the arbitrary numbers that labeled her intelligent in the class came so easily to her. She didn’t feel like she deserved the attention for something that she didn’t work particularly hard for.

When Alice was fourteen, her grades began to slip. Homework stopped being handed in as often as it should be. It wasn’t through lack of effort, Alice never stopped trying her very best. It was sleepless nights. It was shaking hands in the school bathroom, water splashed on her face to try to regain composure. It was Alice staring at a blank screen in the middle of the night, the cursor blinking over and over and over.

It was yelling just outside her door, fights that never went anywhere, just in circles closing tighter and tighter, closing around Alice’s throat until it was all she could think about. It was chilly silences at the dinner table, and no acknowledgments or praise when Alice managed to scramble together a B. It was so much harder than it used to be. Trying to write an essay with tears making the screen blurry wasn’t easy, as it turned out. Did her parents even notice? Did they care? They were too busy being determined to not care about each other to notice her.

Alice’s teachers noticed, though. They called her back after class and gave the same tired spiel about her not living up to her potential. Alice was convinced they all followed some sort of script. Occasionally they’d ask if everything was okay back home. Usually, they didn’t. It made no difference to Alice, she wasn’t going to break down in an empty classroom to an adult she didn’t know, open up about the fears keeping her up at night. This tension, the fighting, it had to be temporary. There was no other alternative.

Alice knew she needed to talk to someone. Her fears were hardening, crystallizing, and she didn’t want to know what would happen if they shattered. She didn’t need to explode in front of her parents, they were struggling enough. How long had they been like this and she simply hadn’t noticed? Did they hide it for her sake, until it was too large to hide behind polite smiles and empty gestures of affection?

Was it her fault?

Alice dreaded coming home, but she didn’t know where else to go. The few friends she had, acquaintances, really, had gotten irritated by the dark cloud following her wherever she went. They’d stopped inviting her over. Alice didn’t blame them, she didn’t want to be around herself either.

Alice had been walking home from school one day, and the anxiety tightening in her chest was crushing. The idea of going back, seeing her mother greet her with a strained smile as if nothing had changed was unbearable. Alice didn’t need to check the time, she could count down the minutes until her father came through the door from the building tension radiating off her mother.

No, she couldn’t go back. Not yet, at least. Alice didn’t really think about where she was going as she took a turn, one that didn’t lead home. She didn’t think about where she was going until she made her way to an apartment building. It was silly, Alice thought as she knocked tentatively. He probably wasn’t home. He’d be at work, with her dad. She hadn’t seen him in ages, and it wasn’t like her to just visit alone. Too late to turn back, though, and she stood awkwardly, fully expecting the door to never open, force her to abandon this plan and go home. She was so certain that it was all for nothing that she jumped when the door swung open.

Paul’s eyes widened, but he smiled when he saw her. A genuine smile. It warmed Alice’s heart a little, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen anyone so happy to see her. Her doubts washed away as he welcomed her inside without question.

The nice thing about Paul was that he was blunt. Not harsh, just honest. He wasn’t one to beat around the bush. The second Alice saw him, the sympathy in his eyes, she knew he was all too aware of what was going on with her dad. There were dark circles around his eyes, and she realized with a jab to her heart that he must be struggling too. Her dad was his best friend. As hard as it was to see her parents’ relationship falling apart… At least she didn’t sit next to him all day, watching his misery grow like Paul did. Alice wondered for a moment if this was a good idea. Paul’s hand was at his side, tapping his thumb against his fingers repeatedly, one after the other. Alice chewed her lip. He was nervous; Alice assumed he didn’t know what to say to her. This wasn’t normal, it wasn’t like her to drop by alone with no warning for some emotional support. She shouldn’t have come, it wasn’t fair to him. She was about to apologize and turn around when he gestured to the couch and spoke. “Do you want to talk about it? I just got the new Mario Kart, that’s an option too.”

Simple and direct, she should have guessed he’d know just what to say. Paul had known her practically her whole life, Alice had clear memories of Paul picking her up from school and taking her to get ice cream, grinning at her and telling her not to tell her dad. She didn’t have anyone else to go to, and she needed someone who understood how she was feeling. Alice had spent so long pointedly not talking about what things were like with her parents, and she suddenly realized that she didn’t know how to start. She wasn’t ready. He’d given her a choice, and Alice decided that she could talk about it another time, when she felt less fragile. Alice smiled softly and sat down on the couch, grabbing a Joy-Con. “Toadette will kick your ass.”

Paul dropped onto the cushion next to her, bumping his shoulder against hers. “Language!” He chastised. Alice stuck out her tongue, he’d been cursing around her before she even knew what the words meant.

She didn’t even realize that she’d never told her parents where she was until Paul paused the game to answer his phone. Alice took the chance to check hers, and winced when she saw her notifications. Missed call after missed call. Whoops. She’d get an earful when she got home. That’s what she got for forgetting to turn off silent mode after her test. The anxiety that’d briefly faded moved to the forefront again, and her thoughts blurred. She was so stupid, she must have worried them so much.

“Bill, don’t worry, Alice is with me.” Paul spoke softly into his phone, drawing Alice back to reality. A pause. Alice could hear her father’s frantic tone, but not his words. “She’s fine! We’re just playing Mario Kart.” Paul listened, closing his eyes. “Okay. I’ll get her home, don’t worry.” Alice tensed. It hadn’t been that long. Alice nudged him and he turned to her. She shook her head a little, hoping he’d get it. “There’s still a few tracks we haven’t tried, I was going to order pizza.” Paul spoke casually. Alice held her breath. She listened to the response on the other end of the phone, catching only a few words. Homework was the only one that stood out. Paul cut him off. “I need to go, bye!” Alice almost choked out a laugh. Paul was many things, diplomatic was not one of them.

Paul hung up and unceremoniously unpaused their game, making Alice scramble to keep up as he took a little head start. Alice finally relaxed. They could talk about everything that had been going on, the thoughts and terrors keeping her up at night. Paul would be there when she was ready.

#tgwdlm #starkid #tgwdlm fic #the guy who didn't like musicals #paul matthews #mine #fic

17 notes · View notes

moralanxietystudio · 5 years ago

Text

Buried In Words - Roadwarden Devlog

(Roadwarden is an illustrated text-based RPG in which you explore and change a hostile, grim realm. It combines mechanics of RPGs, adventure games and Visual Novels, and you can now wishlist it on Steam!)

Since the middle of December, working on Roadwarden is mostly about writing new events, dialogues and quests. There were almost no updates on social media - I don’t have time to draw (aside of some inventory icons), and by popular demand, I try to avoid deeper spoilers. I’ve written quite a bunch of stuff, but the results won’t do for exciting screenshots.

I’m currently focused on designing and filling up Howler’s Dell, the largest settlement in the game, so there’s a LOT of important character interactions to introduce, including quests, merchants, and lore. But in the meantime, some major changes have also been introduced:

1. The game over screens

In the original Roadwarden’s Design Document, there were no game-overs. You could get significantly hurt during your journeys, but never to the point where you’d hit a brick wall that would make the further progress impossible. You’d need to rest and heal your wounds to participate in some events, but you could always move forward.

I’ve finally decided to change it. In most situations, reaching 0 HP won’t result in an instant death. But in some scripted encounters - usually when facing an overwhelming opponent while being completely unprepared - your character will be broken.

Still, I hope to make it as player-friendly as possible. Did you forget to save your game? Was autosave ran in an inconvenient spot? You can jump back in time a bit, no strings attached.

In various European cultures, the winged hourglass is an image related to the ephemerality of life, and it has became an important part of the Viaticum fantasy setting over ten years ago. Since there’s no single “canonic” design, I’ve had an opportunity to experiment with various approaches.

2. New “regular” font

The text has now more space to breathe, the letters have more personality, and thanks to the serifs, it’s going to be easier to keep track of the lines you read. Everybody wins:

While the majority of feedback that I’ve gathered shares my enthusiasm, I’ve also seen some words of criticism. It’s still possible that the font is going to be replaced with a different one, but I’m convinced it’s still a step in the right direction.

Even if the font is going to be replaced again, this little feature will be kept in the game. The good old “select a font” setting now showcases a small frame that explains the most significant traits of the regular font and the pixel one. Even though the pixel font looks cool on screenshots, it won’t be gentle on your eyes.

3. Updated inventory menu

From now on, pointing at an icon in your inventory will showcase not just the item’s brief description, but also its name.

This update was essential due to the constantly growing number of items added to the game. Usually, the player will keep using or loosing some of them as they complete more quests or take a part in more unique interactions, but you may reach a point when you’ll see a couple of dozen of icons at once, and they may start to get a bit blurry. When there was maybe 20 items in the entire game, clicking an icon to see the broader description wasn’t a large problem, but it became clear that it was a short-sighted, flawed design.

4. Redesigned armor system

I’m not gonna lie. The gambesons that were present in the demo? They were a placeholder, waiting for a better idea to show up. And here it is.

The original two “types” of armor were related to the character’s class selected at the beginning of the game - the Warrior gets the good stuff, while both the Scholar and the Mage have a piece of trash, since they couldn’t afford anything better.

I was expecting to introduce some encounters “better” armors later in the game, and also script interactions where the better armors help you survive major injuries or even death, but I felt it was not good enough. This approach doesn’t introduce much decision making, and it introduces sort of a boring stagnancy.

The new system offers three “levels” of armor. The level 1 - “A Worn Gambeson” - offers you little to no protection. If you want to be saved during some difficult encounters, or maybe get less hurt when you screw up, you want to get to at least the level 2 - “A Decent Gambeson” - which is given to the Warrior class at the beginning of the game.

Upgrading armor requires getting in touch with a tailor, and paying them to do some fixes for you. However, when the armor “saves” you, it often also gets damaged. Its level decreases.

The 3rd level of your armor - “A Fine Gambeson” - follows the same rules. Wearing it will save you from most wounds, but during this process, it may also get torn, downgraded to level 2. As the player, you have to decide how many dragon coins you are willing to invest to keep yourself in one piece.

So simple, yet so much better. And I can still decide to introduce levels 0, 4, 5... Depending on what will turn out to fit the larger picture.

5. Updated journal menu

The journal has received the very needed scrollbars, which appear only when there’s too much text to fit in a single window. From now on, I don’t expect that the player will just “figure out” that they can use a mouse wheel, or drag the text box. Nice and easy:

Also, when you select a chapter (like “Quests”) or a specific entry (like the “Necromancers?” quest), the button is now highlighted, what will help you keep track of what you’ve been clicking through:

Also, unlike in the game’s demo, the “People” chapter is now cohesive with the “Quests” formatting. Originally, these sections had different sizes, what didn’t look as good as I intended.

6. Dolmen updates

Just to make it clear - the game receives a whole bunch of updates and bug fixes every week, and I don’t plan to list dozens of small adjustments just because. But this one is pretty fun for me, since it shows the progressing level of attention to detail, and the evolution of the game’s design. : )

Since the day I’ve introduced this area to the game’s prototype, I was unhappy about the low amount of visual changes it had to offer. No matter what you’d type down to solve the puzzle, the only clues you’d receive were presented in text.

The updated dolmen required some rewrites and a fair bit of drawing, but from now on, once you find something that provides a significant clue, you’ll also see a visual feedback that’s going to reflect your discovery. It will help you backtrack the older information, and focus your attention on more successful guesses. Oh, something new has showed up? I guess it’s important!

7. The world map reworks

Some of those updates are difficult to spot without a looking glass. Some percentage of the “bushes” have different colors now and a couple of new shapes; the forests and trees now cast shadows; the lake nearby the Southern Crossroads has more details; the river in the east is broader; there are new hills nearby Tulia’s Camp...

But it’s the eastern part of the map that has seen some major updates. It’s filled with hills and mountains, and because of it, it provides more limited vision than lands in the west, covered with plains and swamps. Previously, this disproportion was quite a bit larger, and I’ve decided to town it down a bit. I hope that the effect I’ve had in mind is still clear to spot.

8. More “stable” text boxes

When the player points at an icon, it usually creates a text box with a related description. From now on, more of these text boxes will be anchored to specific parts of the screen, instead of showing up in an area related to the player’s cursor. It should make the information less chaotic, and won’t cover other icons anymore. Also, there will be no more situations when the text box is partially outside of the game’s window.

---------------------------------

Thank you for taking a look at this devlog, for your support and kindness. Remember, you can also find me on Twitter and Facebook, and the game has a Steam page on which you can add it to your wishlist. Have a great day!

#pixelart #rpg #fantasy rpg #pixel art #indie #Indiegame #indie dev #video game #gaming #pcgaming #visualnovel #visual novel #Adventure Game

9 notes · View notes

entropy-game-dev · 5 years ago

Video

tumblr

In this episode of “inefficient ways to move paper cranes” we have a whopping 5 different wind styles with two moves each (left and right click) that you will be able to use to traverse the various levels! In the above video, you can see me demoing out each of them, lovingly programmed by our awesome programmer (again, not me for this game, I’m doing the music!)

Fixed style - Wind streams are placed and linger in the air for a period of time. Right click creates wind tunnels that focus the cranes better

Free style - Click and drag to create freeform wind particles that linger for a period of time. Again, right click creates wind tunnel particles.

Vacuum style - Clicking creates a sphere of influence that sucks cranes towards you. Right click releases them in all direction very violently.

Stream style - Clicking and holding creates a continuous stream of wind that follows your orb at one end, and your mouse cursor at the other end. Right clicking does the same with a wind tunnel. It’s like a hose!

Element style - Left clicking extends a wide, weak beam that pulls cranes upward. Right click charges a narrow railgun that accurately shoots cranes away. Unlike the other modes, both beams can be fired at once here.

Look forward to more developments over the weekend! And for some pretty cool art including 🦀!

#game #videogame #devblog #gamedev #indiedev #gamemaker #programming #origami #puzzle #action #scifi #spacegame #dungeon crawler #rpg #entropy #pixel art #robot

11 notes · View notes

dahniwitchoflight · 5 years ago

Text

Candy 29-36

Things are finally happening with Alltie, ok cool

holy fuck Jane the words coming out of your mouth is a real nasty shock

but again I witnessed your descent this entire time so I can’t say I’m really that surprised

Gamzee here asking if she might sound a bit xenophobic is actually pretty cunning coming from him, and not the stupid comment it sounds like, he’s riling her up like he’s got her wrapped around his codpiece, which, he kinda does tbh

he’s actually doing a very good job of fanning the flames and honestly probably doing exactly what Dirk would have doing had he been in his position, minus boinking her of course

Oh she finally gets rid of him though, far too little too late though

Love how the last thing on Gamzee’s mind is just more selfish junk though

though if he’s not immediately killed by her security detail he’s just gonna go on his own murderous rampage again, that what he do after all

oof, oh boy here comes the genocide though

let’s see how Vriska isn’t coping with earth C tho yeah?

Oh wow John just nonchalantly putting brackets over Vriska like that lol

“JOHN: i got everything i wanted. everyone got what they—

JOHN: what i thought they wanted.”

BINGO! That’s what’s wrong, that’s what been wrong this whole time

John’s been unintentionally influencing the people around him to do what he thinks they want to do, not what they actually want to do, so they’ve all been slowly warped over time by John’s perceptions of them, and the more John’s react to their changes, the more changes happen to them and their personalities

like some kind of butterfly effect

Jane starts out neutral but says something ignorant about trolls, innocently even, john gets the thought “wow, that was kind of xenophobic, i wonder if she wants to dislike trolls?” and upon thinking that, instead of being an innocent ignorance that could have been cleared up, now it’s actually true because John thinks its true

and then just, that, over and over again, each time the warp and the contrast increasing until we get this basically, everyone just a horrendously skewed version of themselves with traits that John honed in and accepted about them from assumptions about them

so, yeah in a way, this is all kind of John’s fault just not the way he imagined

“JOHN: whatever i did, or didn’t do, just... destroyed reality’s ability to, like, substantiate itself, or whatever.

JOHN: like there’s a bug in the operating system of whatever force in this world that regulates cause and effect.”

Yeah that bug is probably called that house cursor thing, in a story, a bug in the system is called a plot hole, referring to it as a bug when referencing software probably makes sense since in the sburb game sense it probably IS just a cursor that “dropped” out of someone’s game window when it shouldn’t have, like a glitch

oh godammnit can someone just kill the clown? Vriska can you just kill Gamzee please

why all the weirdly specific wrestling moves though, I can’t even follow cuz I don’t even know what’s happening or what all these terms mean

oh.

uh..

no thanks, I’m retconning that from my brain if you please

oh wait, Candy is unhinged from truth pillar right

so varying levels of essentialness and relevance is Candy? hmm less so and less so over time

the way Rose is talking though, it makes it seem like the canon story of Homestuck just isn’t a happy one

and well, from her perspective it isn’t, Meat is technically so far the canon one to her

but remember This Rose could never see past the Candy or the Meat, she was blinded to everything else except it, even now she’s blind to anything outside of her current story, she can’t even tell things are fake anymore, John is unfortunately not so lucky

so a third route where things can be both satisfying and true is still possible, maybe not from here, not from now, but out there somewhere its still possible

So it’s not like we all have to give up on Homestuck quite yet

wow I really should have actually read these epilogues sooner, it’s really not as horrible as everyone was making it out to be, because it’s making it abundantly clear that it’s not a binary choice between Meat or Candy

it’s just that any other possible route simply doesn’t exist yet, and may not exist until something changes in canon itself (hint, probably pesterquest mc)

in it’s current state, all Homestuck has is Meat or Candy

but that doesn’t mean the story of Homestuck as it is now can’t change or be retconned further

I’m still ignoring all references to the clown from here on out

“candy-coated shithole of an approximation of what a paradise planet might look like to certain individuals.”

yeah that’s a good way to describe Earth C lol

“JAKE: Do you think ive ruined my whole entire life and all of my relationships and especially the most important relationship in ones life, the divine and unbreakable bond between a man and his son?

JOHN: haha.

JOHN: um.“

wow lol I think John is actually getting whiplash from the amount of “oh god why are all of my friends living out all of my emotional problems I never got closure for like some sort of sick puppet show”

“ John wonders if everything being out of his control would make him feel better. Even if he weren’t presently stuck sucking on this bitter cosmic red pill, he can’t imagine being particularly happy with this worldstate. Maybe it just would’ve made it all the more soul-crushing. “

It’s weird because like, the answer, yet again, to the question “Should I have control total control over everything or I should not have any control over anything” is always going to be “no, wrong question, both are wrong, the real answer is you should have some control to effects things, and not just YOU, everyone should have control over their own destinies”

we need to get the cursor juju, blend it into a milkshake and have everyone take part in a big old toast to it and then have them all come together and rewrite homestuck together

Get Ultimate John, Jade, Dave and Rose to all sit down and make a roadmap for their own story and have that be Homestuck 2.0 and live in that forever

and like, everyone get’s to decide what happens in their own stories and where’d theyd like to be except Lord English, he unquestioningly evil and can’t be convincingly “undone” I think because all of his shittyness has to come back to some person, and i think that’s likely to be Caliborn or Gamzee at the end of the day

heh, Caliborn and Gamzee = Calamzee, almost sounds like a corrupted word for Calamity

Anyway, yeah all it took at the end for John to finally dip into the illusion is a big old blast of HopeChange from Jake English

and so obviously I’m going to address the use of the word Change here in this context

it’s capitalized, and obviously used in Reference to Jake’s overall Classpect

which seems to be implying a connection to Witch as a Change Class

but Hope in it’s nature is already a natural catalyst of a Changing force itself, it was once the power to make fake things real in Homestuck proper, and of course one off hand word in connection to Witch is simply not enough to overthrow a larger pile of evidence in a different direction which is that Knight and Page are the obvious class pairing (looking at you “more magical Witch” Sylph, now you got a real competition! lol)

Now taken that with everything we know about “real” and “fake” when it comes to the epilogues

and that the idea of Canon has been associated with that white glow of satisfaction overall

Jake English is probably once again more key to what would be a satisfying canon story than anything else, same with the cursor Juju

maybe the Juju then doesn’t need to be key either, maybe the key is just everyone spreading their own powers over eachother and using that as the medium to write the story again

I’m getting really hung up on the idea of the characters themselves deciding to fix the problems in their existence by going back into canon and writing out their own personally satisfying arc conclusions overtop of their origin stories and having genuine conversation about things when their stories overlap with eachother and taking the time to respect and help manifest eachother’s wishes as well as their own, like a grand cosmic god version of just living life and being friends would have done in the first place, no canon adjusting powers needed

Anyway, Almost done with Candy now, just got a few more pages to go

#Homestuck #Meat or Candy

26 notes · View notes

tyrwinthyr · 6 years ago

Text

Episode 1, act 1

‘On November 1st it will be ten years since the doors of Arcadia closed on Its sons and daughters. This exposed us to the world, causing your Mad President to demand a ‘Second Inquisition,’ calling on all other leaders to hunt and kill our people.’

Sheila paused her typing there, leaning back in her chair to consider that last word. Was ‘people’ the right word to use to describe a race of beings so diverse? Tabbing over to a browser, she looked up the definition.

PEOPLE (noun) 1. Human beings in general or considered collectively.

A heavy thump of fingers sent the cursor back to her letter. It blinked there accusingly, slowly winking in and out of existence. She put her palms against her eyes, rubbing until stars appeared. A migraine was coming on, the kind that started in the back and violently plowed through anything productive she worked on. She dug her fingers under the base of her horns, right where they began at her temples, then tugged down on the curved parts. It relieved some pressure; she turned her attention back to the chore of picking the correct noun.

It was always dangerous to compare the Fae to humans, particularly where humans were concerned. The word ‘Fae’ itself was a catch-all they used to describe anything they didn’t understand these days. Sheila wasn’t herself technically of the Fae races, but that didn’t prevent satyrs from being lumped in with the rest. Most of her species, and many of the less magical beings, considered themselves to be ‘Folk.’ That might work… she looked up the definition.

FOLK (noun) 1. People in general.

Sheila sighed at the computer screen, decided that it would all come out in editing, and continued with her letter.

‘It wasn’t until years later that the madman was removed from office, and it was many more before the war waged on us eased. Even though the war is technically over we are still treated as less than. Violence is committed against the Fae on a daily basis, but nothing is being done about it. We’ve been in your world for as long as humans have, living alongside you without incident. Why does knowing we exist change things so drastically? We are still the same people you worked next to, lived near, laughed with… I’m asking for your help, Senator, to end the persecution of my…’

Hiking up her skirt slightly while waffling back and forth between ‘community’ and ‘race,’ she leaned down to scratch the fur above her left hoof. Leaning forward a bit, she also checked to make sure her polish wasn’t scuffed. A glance cast over her shoulder proved Karen was staring at her leg. The older woman’s face was caught somewhere between curiosity and distaste, which rapidly became embarrassment when Sheila snapped her skirt down curtly.

While her human coworkers had gotten mostly used to her horns and long ears, they rarely caught glimpses of legs covered in fur. Long skirts in layers of subdued fabrics hid anything too distracting from curious eyes. It was always better to let them wonder what might be under there than to endure the barely veiled discomfort of a human dealing with strangeness.

With a brief smile on Sheila’s part, Karen was let off the hook. The rictus curve of her lips relaxed immediately, breaking into a telling smile. It was an over compensating mask stretched nearly to breaking across her face. It was the defensive smile of a human caught being possibly offensive. Well, for the ones that cared about such things.

“Oh,” the woman said, startling herself out of the attempt to make her face look ‘natural,’ “Your father is on line two.”

Sheila nodded her thanks, then tugged down on her horns again, trying to ease the ache between her ears. After a few deep breaths, and a countdown backwards from seven, she picked up the handset.

“This is Sheila,” she said, mustering up her best professional voice. Human/Fae relations had taught her a lot about having a ‘business voice,’ but with her father, it rarely lasted long.

“I know who you are,” his voice in return was cool, bland, tearing into his daughter’s attempts to be professional, “and you know better than to keep me waiting. You know I’m busy.”

Sheila cast an accusatory glance at Karen, who was finding anywhere else to look. “I just got off a call,” Sheila lied, knowing full well she probably wouldn’t have picked up any sooner regardless.

“Right.”

After muting the phone to take a deep breath, she bravely asked, “May I know what you are calling for, sir?”

“Your brother will be in Colorado tomorrow. I will forward you his itinerary, I expect you to offer him full assistance, as well as hospitality, until he departs.”

It wasn’t her brother Simon that she had a problem with. It was her father’s way of demanding things from her that irked her.

“I’m busy tomorrow. I’m sure he can handle himself for a few hours.”

“You are a Whitehart,” he stated, his voice still cool, though behind it came the power of an unspoken invocation, “So you will do your duty to this family. I do not have to ask… or must you be reminded?”

“You haven’t actually asked yet,” she retorted, calm torn apart by the ragged edges of family duty, “but no, you don’t have to force me.”

“As long as you do your part, you will continue to receive my financial support…” he continued, but his daughter was no longer listening.

Instead, she watched her best friend walk towards her, a welcome breath of fresh air named Gaspar. Skirt swishing, chin held high, he was the very image of the ‘Action Transvestite’ he claimed to be. Light on the make-up today, true, but the pleated skirt paired with the business top made the Look. Without a word he sat on the edge of her desk, fingers folded like the noblest of ladies across his lap.

“Did you hear what I said, Sheila?” Her father only raised his voice like that occasionally. Mostly, her mother had once explained, at his only daughter.

“Yes, Father,” she responded, rolling her eyes at Gaspar. He clucked sympathetically, most of his attention on staring down Karen. Oil and water didn’t work as a good comparison for the two nearly as well as ice and a hot frying pan did.

“Good. Since I have no further business for you, I’ll let you get back to your…” he paused, perhaps to allow his contempt to gather in the final word, “Work.” Sheila’s face reddened, lips pressing together tightly.

“Love you, Father,” she said coolly, savoring the silence the words created before he disconnected. Her lips had gone numb in the process, and an exhalation from Gaspar made her smile softly.

“Oh. My. God. Sheila!” he said, eyes wide, knowing what the words meant to her family, “You know, someday you’re going to mean it when you say it… THEN what will happen, hmm?”

“He’s in no danger of that happening, trust me,” came the reply, her handset slapping back into place as a punctuation.

“Savage! Girl, I just can’t even with you today,” Gaspar’s eyes reflected the delight he felt. He loved a good scandal. Pulling his sleeve up, he exposed a new watch to his redheaded friend. She knew he collected watches, so offered him a smile of approval.

“Oh, you got it!” she said, pulling it closer to admire the Invicta he was sporting. He’d been watching the price on this particular toy for a while. The only thing he loved more than clothes, watches and make-up was a bargain. He’d lectured many times that paying full price for something was admitting defeat.

“No,” he scoffed, then corrected, “Well, yes, I did, but what I’m showing you, silly goat, is the time.” He was the only person in the world she allowed to call her anything related to her ‘animal’ bits… he had earned the right, “It’s time for you to shed your Mormon clothes! It’s time for bailando!” He slid off the desk, extending a hand towards Sheila like they were about salsa right there in the cubicles.

A soft cough from Karen brought both of their gazes to her. Once again, the satyr wondered if there were any baby Karens, or if they just materialized fully grown one day asking the boss about overtime. She was studiously ignoring them, but a pile of folders had conveniently gotten closer to the edge of her desk.

Gaspar took up the gauntlet, “Oh, hey, you can come with, boo!” When she looked up, he was right next to her desk grinning mischievously, holding out his hand. Without a word, Karen stood up to march into the breakroom.

Quickly, Sheila saved her work before following her friend out the door.

The air was crisp, but not too cold, as autumn should be. Pumpkin spice had invaded everything, edible or not, and you couldn’t toss a black cat without hitting a Halloween store. It was Sheila’s favorite time of the year. Even though he griped about the chill, Gaspar let her roll her window down so she could savor it.

“Did you dress up when you were a kid?” Gaspar asked, pointing the car in the general direction of her apartment with his usual disdain for road etiquette. He casually flicked his middle finger at someone honking at him, not even bothering to look in their direction.

“For Halloween?” she clarified, easing her grip on the oh-shit handle above the window, but leaving her hoof braced against his dashboard just in case. “Yeah, we all did. Samhain is a middle place, so people could see us. We could be ourselves without fear.” Her flamboyant friend had learned the previous year about what the Folk called the ‘twixt,’ which were things and times between. That was when the Fae had the most power.

“Oh, that would have been lovely,” he sighed, hand flat on his chest, looking at her wistfully. “A boy in a dress was never allowed. ‘Oh, no, Gaspy, you can’t be Joan of Arc! Why can’t you just be a regular knight?’”

Sheila chortled softly, “You sound nothing like her,” she teased.

“Thank god. I’d have to rip out my own vocal cords if I ever developed her eardrum-piercing cawing.” The way he deadpanned his threat evoked a laugh from the satyr, though she quickly stifled the sound. Gaspar sighed. “You know, holding all that in is going to kill you.”

“My therapist says my stress levels are manageable,” she quipped back defensively. They both know she didn’t have a therapist. They encouraged openness, feelings… dangerous things for a Whitehart.

“You know what I mean, silly goat,” he said, watching her face while simultaneously causing three different cars to blare their horns at him. She did indeed, so fell silent until they pulled up in front of her apartment.

Years ago, fire had torn apart the area of Colorado Springs called ‘Mountain Shadow.’ It was the tip of the burn scar on the side of the mountain, and even a decade and a half later it was still healing. Like the saplings that had pushed their way through the ash to start their new life, the Folk had taken up residence in the area. Sheila lived in a gated apartment complex in the area, her room looking up at the healing hillside. She paid more for it, but it spoke to the nature spirit in her. After destruction there was new, often stronger, life. It gave her hope that the Fae could grow strong after their own calamity.

Gaspar hummed to himself on the porch swing, wafting clouds of cotton candy vapor from his favorite brand of cancer-stick. Sitting out there served two purposes: a nicotine fix, and it let him ignore the inside of her apartment. He had come to terms with the fact that the big pile of clothes opposite her bed was dirty, the clean ones were hung with care on an exercise machine, and it might take a week or more before her dishes made their way to the kitchen. Even though it drove his OCD ‘itchy with madness,’ he’d promised not to try to straighten up anymore.

The satyr stood looking at herself in a full-length mirror, one that was tacked to the wall without a frame. She ran her fingertips over the bareness of her thighs, checking the state of the wax job she’d gotten the Sunday before. They called it a ‘greek,’ and it removed all her fur from her navel to the middle of her thighs, giving the image of thigh-high stockings made of red fur. She decided it was still clean enough, though she frowned at the state of her tail. After hours trapped under a skirt, it looked more like bunny fluff than it did goat fur. She fussed at it with a brush, then gave up.

Her hair, not happy with having been bound back all day, let its opinion be known by frizzing out as much as possible. It was quite upset, she was sure, because she had not only tried out a new conditioner, but had dyed it a darker shade of red. Her usual color was closer to orange (Gaspar tried to help by calling it ‘coppery’), and her roots had been ‘hot.’ No matter how she tried, it wouldn’t form into the desired ringlets of luscious red. Instead it looked, in her opinion, like something found at the bottom of a basket of red yarn. Giving up, her hair found itself bound tightly backwards before being slathered with leave in conditioner to weigh it down. Hair and tail would just have to stay upset.

“Your clothing allergy has gotten out of hand,” Gaspar patted her bottom as he walked by, then sat daintily on the edge of her bed. While he was entirely comfortable with her naked bits, he still gave her ever-growing laundry pile a look of horror. “Okay, so, if I paid for a maid… hazard pay, to be sure… would you even let them in here?”

Sheila did not look up from where she was sorting her clean dresses. “You know I can’t let someone in here unbound, Gaz.” She turned with a dress held up in front of her. It was short, perhaps too short, and red… perhaps too red. Her friend was looking at the wall near the head of her bed instead of the dress. On it was a painting of a door, covered in symbols, with a quite-real handle sticking out of it. Above the door was a quote:

‘I have trod the upward and the downward slope; I have endured and done in days before; I have longed for all, and bid farewell to hope; And I have lived and loved, and closed the door.’

The quote had nothing to do with the operation of the door; Sheila just liked Stevenson.

“Sometimes,” Gaspar said quietly, sitting with a straight back, his knees folded, “I try to remember life before the Fae. I think that maybe I knew what I was seeing, you know, before?” he paused, adjusting the hem of his skirt, “I feel I’ve always know them… you.” He offered her a smile, then motioned towards the portal with a delicate lift of his fingers, “Who knows, maybe I’ve seen a door like this in Manitou, and I was like… tra la la, yay, a painting?”

The two were bound together by a ritual, but there were still things she couldn’t tell him. The trods, how they worked, their locations; all of these things would put his life in danger. He was only allowed to know of this one because a quick splash of water would blend the colors, rendering it impotent.

“So,” she changed the subject, “does this say, ‘momma wants her bun honeyed?”

He knew what she was doing, but after a quick sigh, he came back with, “It says that, as well as, ‘just leave the money on the dresser.’”

“Sex, and some coffee money?” she sat next to him, pulling the dress up over her hooves, “Sounds like a win-win to me!”

“As long as you’re okay with 7-11 coffee, hooker,” he said, turning his usual sly smile away from her. She knew she wouldn’t be winning this round of snark.

She stood up, turning her back to him so he could fit her tail through the button hole in the back of the dress. While she made the proper adjustments to her cleavage, he stood to lace golden strands around her horns. They were bargain-bin necklaces repurposed, but they went with the earrings she wore. While some of her cousins would pierce the full length of their long, conical ears, she liked to keep things simple. After Gaspar fixed her make-up, and she added a bit of shine on her hooves, they were ready to go.

Normally, they would have gone to a bar in Manitou, a nearby town that accepted the Folk. Most of the residents were either Fae or their biggest fans. Instead, they were heading to the Castle, downtown. It was a meat market club, with heavier music, more expensive drinks, and hookups far cheaper. Tonight was a ‘Faery Mixer’, a marketing ploy to get humans into the club. Let the strange and delightful drink free so you can over-charge the humans who want to touch them.

They made it from the parking garage without any of the usual stupidity. Sheila was quite happy with the wolf whistle received from a passing car. Usually, it was someone shouting some speciest bullshit. Sexism was far easier to tolerate, particularly when she was feeling sexy. Once within the building, she settled Gaspar into a corner booth before going to get their drinks.

“Hey, satyr baby,” said a younger man, sliding a bit too close to her at the bar.

She sighed, ears twitching, then replied, “I’m a faun.” When he leaned in closer, turning his head towards her to hear over the music, she repeated: “I. am. a faun.” He seemed confused by the correction, so she turned to collect the drinks from the bartender.

“You look like a satyr,” he replied, following her close through the crowd. She swayed through the dancers and minglers expertly, an artform developed by years of waitressing. It was how she’d paid for college, after all. She didn’t reply until she had the drinks set in front of Gaspar. Adjusting her dress, she turned to lean towards her inebriated shadow.

“I’m a faun, not a satyr,” she lied. It was a common mistake that humans made, confusing the two species. “Satyrs are feral party animals,” she continued, leaving out the bad parts: the misogyny of her male counterparts, who were lauded for centuries for molesting nymphs and human women alike.

“So, what the fuck is a faun?” he asked, looking her up and down in disbelief.

“Like a satyr, but not as…” she paused, almost saying ‘rapey,’ “Easy. I’m sure if I wasn’t a faun I’d be all about being called ‘satyr baby.’ I’m not, though, so… go away, ‘kay?” Gaspar leaned up, making a shooing motion towards the man.

“Time to g’wan, boyo,” he said, managing to look both glamorous and intimidating.

“I was just being friendly, freak,” the young man stepped back a bit, raising his voice, “You think I, what, wanted some fucking beast like you?” Humans were oddly attracted to the Fae, particularly the ones put together by lusty gods. Resist their overtures and attraction turned to anger quickly. Fae were less than human, not good enough, just monsters.

Sheila had dealt with it many times before, but her Gaspar never handled it well. Sliding into the booth next to him, she covered his hand with hers, shaking her head.

Finding himself being stared at, without any further responses from the ‘faun’ to fire him up, the young man walked away.

“His prick is as small as his mind,” Gaspar quipped, testing the flavor of his grasshopper.

“How do you drink those?” Sheila asked, wrinkling her nose in pretend disgust. She preferred a good IPA over ‘girly’ drinks.

“Because I want a drink that doesn’t taste like Stockholm syndrome?” he responded, spinning the ice in his glass. Sheila chuckled softly; they’d disagreed about this for a long time. She preferred heartier flavors. Maybe it was the influence of Dionysus, but it didn’t matter, she liked beer.

“Oh, don’t look, but someone’s peeping!” Of course, she immediately turned to look, causing her friend to sigh in exasperation, “I said DON’T look!”

The peeper in question was handsome enough, dancing with a pair of women. Friends, if the way they moved was any clue. He had dark hair, coupled with light eyes. She did like a nice light eye. She liked the way his clothes fit him even more, even though they weren’t expensive. He seemed… comfortable. Sure to Gaspar’s word, his eyes spent more time on their booth than on the dance floor.

“You positive he’s not looking at you?” She asked, watching the man dance.

“Oh, I wish he was,” came the reply, “I would climb that mountain and plant my flag in his textured crop top… but he is so horridly straight.” She looked at her friend, who immediately tapped the side of his nose, “Gaydar says ‘no fly zone, possibly with anti-gaycraft in his back pockets.”

Sheila counted her blessings once again that Gaspar was in her life. Without him, she wouldn’t have been able to get a moment’s peace in a packed club. Folk only numbered close to five percent of the human population. Most humans claimed to either know a Fae, or to have a friend who knew one personally. Still, they were rare enough for people to be curious, and now that the war was over, more were willing to chance an encounter.

“Go” Gaspar nudged her by sliding his butt against hers. “If he’s odious, give me the sign, girl.”

After a last swig of beer for courage, and some fussing with the length of the skirt (a sudden wish that it was longer), she started toward the trio. She was used to being the one to start up a conversation, particularly since most who came to her were like ‘satyr baby’ from earlier. The man smiled at her as she got closer, as did his companions.

Normally, Sheila felt very predatory trying to find a partner in a club. Deny it as she might, she had satyr blood. It meant that there was passion inside her that needed to come out. Where better than with nameless targets in a meat market like this one? Sex could happen, and usually did, but it wasn’t necessarily the desired outcome. A happy side effect, maybe. It made her feel like she was prowling, devouring hapless dancers to make herself feel better.

When the man placed his fingertips gently against her arm, leaning down slightly to introduce himself, Sheila felt a kindred spirit.

“Greg,” he said, his voice rich, his mouth close enough to entice, but without touching the sensitive hairs on her ear. A whiff of store bought musk brushed her nose, barely hiding the more pleasant copper and salt smell of his skin.

“Sheila,” she responded, and that was all it took. They were dancing. The girls he was with didn’t introduce themselves, but neither did they leave. Instead, they closed the distance, stepping inside of each other’s personal bubbles. Other than that first touch, Greg kept his hands to himself. His friends, however, did all the touching for him. The satyr didn’t mind, not in the least. They were all here for the same thing. With a group like this, she didn’t have to worry about what might happen. It allowed her to relax and release the energy she needed to.

Soon, she found herself closing the distance on Greg. It started with little touches: fingertips and hips, but as the music grew heavier, so too did her movements. The club was her temple to Bacchus. Dancing was her religion, and her god demanded ecstasy. She had never in her life uttered a word of prayer to the creator of her race, but every time she set hoof to dance floor his presence was keenly felt.

Her heart pounded in her ears as she ground against him, rhythm dictating their movements, heavy bass matching the beat in her chest. He was turned on, she could tell, but he wasn’t hers quite yet. She didn’t want him to want her. She wanted him to need her. She squatted in front of him, still moving to the beat, but placing her face close enough to his jeans to get her point across.

Hands on her horns dragged her backwards away from Greg, turning her as she slid to her knees. The young man from before met her angry eyes with madness of his own. Holding her horns didn’t hurt as much as her hair might have, but to her it was twice as humiliating.

“I’m not good enough to talk to, freak?” he shouted over the music, the ambient noise in the club lowering as people stopped dancing to stare. “But you can dance with this… this... faggot?” The floor was too smooth for her to get her hooves placed well, not with his yanking her head about. Greg and his friends tried to help, but the young man had friends of his own. Even with the press of the crowd growing worse as people jockeyed to see her predicament, she could still make out the boy’s friends pushing her support away. Words shouted, hostilities rising, and all Sheila could do was flounder.

“I’ve got you figured out,” he mocked. “I just needed to get a ‘handle’ on you!” He laughed at his own joke, then dragged her head towards his crotch, “Fucking blow me, beast!”

A hoof finally setting itself right was all she needed to drive herself forward, so that’s what she did. One curved horn landed with a satisfying crunch into his junk, making him scream. He didn’t let her go, so she rammed him once more. Trying to twist her head caused him more damage, so he finally let go. Freed, fueled by the rage of being so violated, she came up swinging, but failed to connect. A hand wrapped around her waist, pulling her back, a familiar voice calming her slightly.

“Woah, woah,” Greg shouted, pulling her backwards, “I think he gets it.” The young man’s friends rushed to his aid, glaring at the satyr as if she was the problem. She could hear Gaspar calling to her, trying to reach her through the crowd.

“You fucking freak!” the man shouted from the floor, both hands gripping between his legs, his voice cracking with pain. “I’ll fucking kill you! I’ll mount your damn horns on my wall!”

She lashed a hoof out towards him, but he was too far for her to land the blow. Greg held her tight, speaking calmly to her, and she let that ease her anger. Shock came as adrenaline ebbed. She had struck a human. The camera lights aimed at her, the eyes of those around her, they all reminded her of just how sub human she truly was.

A dog had just bitten the mailman, and the best the bitch could hope for was being caged.

#Modern fantasy #OC #Original Content #Fae #Faerie #Satyr

7 notes · View notes

kylelim · 2 years ago

Text

Assignment 3 Playtesting

We playtested our game GrappleMania! with 6 users (4 from our workshop, and 2 friends). Our designated roles for each playtest session is as follows:

Jeremy - playtest conductor Kyle - playtest notetaker (comments) Noah - playtest notetaker (events)

We first asked users to complete this Demographics Survey (https://forms.office.com/Pages/ResponsePage.aspx?id=o1IL3MVo90SIHZOD2IULllQAGaY_bTFAhL3GBVhihmZUOUEyV0lNSEpOQ1QyRlNOWDRaOUFLQ1hJUS4u)

According to Fullerton, a "script will keep you on track and remind you of your role as an observer". This lead us to creating and following a script that I created in order to keep everything consistent. During the session, we would note down all the player's thoughts as we told them to say it aloud. Additionally, we would note down all of the series of events that would happen during the gameplay.

Shown below, are all the raw notes taken from each playtest session:

Raw Notes: ID No. 1: Tristan

“Like a slingshot game, kinda fun”

very jittery game - improved slightly by f11

“I'm so good at this”

Gem count: - 14 - 3 - 8 - 5

ID No. 2: Charlie

“Trick shot”

Quick to understand mechanics

Poor handle of game

Poor FPS too

Wants to include a UI to show speed and rotation direction

Change missile spawning immediately

Wants to make gems spawn after some time

FPS performance issues with the particle emitters, could change the cursor at least

“Went from can I not hit the wall - can I aim at the Gems - can I avoid the missiles”

Cursor colour should be consistent with plane

The speedometer UI suggests more than there is

Suggested spinning fast will grant missile deflection

Gem Count: - Low - Low - Low - 5 - Significant improvement in skill - 11 - 20

ID No. 3: Josh

Change tutorial text to how to play text

“This is difficult but I like it”

“Grappling feels really natural”

“Grapple feels really nice”

“It feels like you could probably have a delay on the grapple”

“I’m not thinking about the maths behind it. Just clicking trial and error”

“I like the particles for the mouse”

“I need to try work on the recovery”

“I like the way the projectiles work - how they all target you at once”

“If I could change direction”

“I just went really fast” -- “I thought it was just a glitch- not explained enough”

Choosing direction left or right not explained enough

“This is really nice I like this”

“It would be a fun thing to see an implementation of a timer and homing missiles -- survival game”

“It was really fun”

“As soon as I spawn in I didn’t really know what I was doing” -- add a proper tutorial?? Slow motion missiles saying “watch out”

ID No. 4: Jasmine

“What are the red things”

“That’s really cool”

“It’s really fun I like it”

“I keep hitting the walls”

“Making the speed faster is fun (clicking on the ship, causing the radius to be extremely small)”

“It’s a unique idea”

“Do I have a life counter??” -- Didn’t see the health bar

You can move in a straight line if u spam click well enough

“I really like the grapple function”

“It’s really addictive” -- “I’d play it if you put it online”

ID No. 5: Jackson

“Menu looks pretty”

Explain how things works more

“I like the movement”

“I like the art”

Make the levels -- Use the walls to grapple

Clicked the dead centre and flew away

“Use some sound effects”

“Quite addictive”

“Could be a phone game”

Doesn’t notice that you can change direction

“Maybe add a radius where u can’t click on yourself - or max speed”

“Can I get more health”

Trying really hard to beat Jasmines high score -- Eventually beat and got 14 (Jasmine’s was 10)

Implement “Are you sure you want to quit” keeps accidentally quitting

Have a restart button in the level instead of going to the menu

Add a title on the menu

ID No. 6: Jackie

Went to tutorial

Was confused in the beginning (controls)

Died early

Found it difficult when clicking near the center of the object

Tried to get gems and avoided projectiles

Picked up on the controls quickly

Collected 24 gems

Found red lines confusing because “they came from the player”

Suggested area could be bigger, with walls throughout the play area

References:

Fullerton, T. (2018). Page 285. Game Design Workshop: A Playcentric Approach To Creating Innovative Games (Fourth Edition). AK Peters/CRC Press.

#development

0 notes

pokiegen292 · 2 years ago

Text

Wormaxio on poki

Wormate io - Play W Game.

W - Juega a W online en MiniJ.

W poki.

Wormax.Io On Poki - POKIESWOW.NETLIFY.APP.

BRUTAL.IO - Play B on Poki.

Wormax io on poki.

Wormaxio Tips & Tricks 2020.

Wormateio poki.

W Power Ups 2020.

JA I WOJAN vs 1000 WĘŻY w WORMAX.IO! - YouTube.

IO SPIELE Online - Spiele kostenlose Spiele auf Poki.

W Adventures Non-Stop.

Wormate io - Play W Game.

W Adventures Non-Stop. W is a smash-hit online game with dynamic storyline and amusing graphics. The game is free to play, start growing your pets today - cute colorful worms. Wormate is a game inspired by popular multiplayer games like S Set in a large arena, you must slither around consuming food and power-ups to grow your worm larger. Once you grow bigger, you'll be able to trap other worms and get their food! See how big you can get in Wormate.

W - Juega a W online en MiniJ.

Gry Nasze Gry wrzucą cię w sam środek niezwykle wciągającej rywalizacji dla wielu graczy. Mamy tu wszystkie najbardziej emocjonujące wyzwania polegające na tym, że zjesz lub zostaniesz zjedzony, w tym A i S Zmień wygląd swojego stwora przed bitwą i przygotuj się na przejęcie całego świata!. Quer jogar Jogos Jogue YoHoH, EvoWorld io (FlyOrDie io), D e muito mais gratuitamente no Poki. O melhor ponto de partida para descobrir novos jogos online.

W poki.

INSTAGRAM: (@pawel_palion) ️ Kliknij obok aby zasybskrybować kanał!: 🔥 3000 LAJKÓW = NOWY OD.

Wormax.Io On Poki - POKIESWOW.NETLIFY.APP.

List of P related games on Cool-IO.Games, the best place to play all PokiIO games in full-screen mode for Free!. Have FuN!.

BRUTAL.IO - Play B on Poki.

Play our addictive online multiplayer games for free on Poki! Play 3D multiplayer shooting games such as V and Battle Forces. Show your friends who the boss is in Rabbids Wild Race and House of Hazards. Or work together to solve puzzles in ZOOM-BE and Duo Survival. You can even create virtual chaos together in S!.. Wormaxio poki: pokiesok. Feb 05, 2020 · Wormaxio Tips: Avoid Getting Too Close Moving side-by-side with equally large or larger opponent can be very dangerous. Even though large snakes are slower, the enemies that are alongside your snake can allure you in, moving your direction in a manner that your head hits their sides. The Poki team is very proud of this award, because it's not so easy to get it: more than 30,000 projects from 70 countries were presented at the competition. Akinator - Poki Games.. Unblocked Games - the most popular entertainment on the Internet, and difficult will not agree with it. The popularity they deserved thanks to the small size.

Wormax io on poki.

Wormax2. io is the next generation of the legendary Wormax. io. The worm moves automatically and turns following the mouse cursor. Sobre nuestros Juegos Poki Juega a muchos de tus juegos Poki favoritos aqui mismo!Ademas de juegos parecidos a Subway Surfers, tenemos un monton de juegos de armas superemocionantes.

Wormaxio Tips & Tricks 2020.

Our io Games thrust you into competitive multiplayer action. We have the most exciting survival challenges. Make sure you are the last alive in our io Battle Royale Games. Or get a high score in games like P 2 by covering as much space as possible. Customize your character before battle, and prepare to overtake the entire world!. Wormax io poki. Federico Mouse 4.3 86,041 votes Hunt for sea creatures in D! You will begin the underwater adventure as a fish. After eating enough food, you can trans. No items have been added yet!. W está en los top más jugados. 1.682.539 partidas, ¡Exitazo! Jugar a W online es gratis. ¡Disfruta ya de este juegazo de Juegos !.

Wormateio poki.

Play online W 2 A great puzzle-style game is here. Build a platform tower have fun in T a new multiplayer game on speeds up your ability to build a tower !! remember that we have a collection of totally free games for you to spend your free time. Wormo IO Game! Multiplayer game with shooting worms!.

W Power Ups 2020.

IPhone. iPad. In the mobile version of W, you control a snake. Your goal is to make your snake gain the biggest mass and to reach the 1st place among other players on the arena. Be careful and don't run into other worms as you slither forward! This free mobile MMO is filled with tons of fun and competition. GIOCHI.IO - Gioco Giochi Gratis su Poki. JA I WOJAN vs 1000 WĘŻY w WORMAX.IO! - YouTube. Our io Games thrust you into competitive multiplayer action. We have the most exciting survival challenges. Make sure you are the last alive in our io Battle Royale Games. Or get a high score in games like P 2 by covering as much space as possible.

Want to play B Play this game online for free on Poki in fullscreen. Lots of fun to play when bored at home or at school. B is one of our favorite games. Wormate io is one of the best interpretations of the classic snake games featuring online multiplayer, crisp graphics and simple controls. Play as a worm with a sweet tooth, consume all kinds of tasty treats, grow to an enormous size and defeat other player by making them crash into your tail.

JA I WOJAN vs 1000 WĘŻY w WORMAX.IO! - YouTube.

Jul 11, 2022 · Wormate io is one of the best interpretations of the classic snake games featuring online multiplayer, crisp graphics and simple controls. Play as a worm with a sweet tooth, consume all kinds of tasty treats, grow to an enormous size and defeat other player by making them crash into your tail. Every new Wormate game will spawn you as a young.

IO SPIELE Online - Spiele kostenlose Spiele auf Poki.

Feb 05, 2020 · W Power Ups 2020. InW is an online multiplayer io game and many power ups have been added to it to enhance the game-playing experience for players. A vital online strategy game, W is loved by many players online. The game gets you ahead with many improved skins, features, power ups and more. Wormateio poki. 5. W is one of the fun io games that can be played in free multiplayer. Eat as much candy, donuts, cakes as you can and try to grow! The biggest worm i. The smash-hit game! Play with millions of players around the world and try to become the longest of the day!. W Adventures Non-Stop.

W Adventures Non-Stop.

W – a free-to-play browser-based multiplayer game. Welcome to the world of Wormax, a fascinating multiplayer online action game in which you will fight for precious food against other players in real time! W is a modern remake of the classic Snake. However, here, instead of your own tail and walls, you will face hundreds of.

See also:

House Of Pokies Australia Login

Giorgia Whigham Pokies

Sexy Beach Pokies

0 notes

panicinthestudio · 6 years ago

Text

Yes long, posts like this happen now and then.

It’s occurred to me during the late nights like this that all of this is armour. That people aren’t growing further apart directly because of technology or that we’ve thicker or thinner skin about things around various issues--they are barriers we’ve put up. Some of them are more subtle and others are quite literal, in general it seems like a jumble of all the things we’ve aggregated, conscious and unconscious cultural design.

Things like emergent wearable tech, beginning with portable music moving to the discreet and miniaturized, ballooning into smartphones, watches, tablets, influencing portables, and integrating into shoes and clothes. They are things that seem to build up a type of tech that tracks, covers, and are held relatively close to the body by mimicking the existing barriers that we’ve become socialized to accept, but with a sensory interface that has become pervasive.

The effect of people sealing themselves off psychologically is a mental, emotional, and physical one. It’s easy to see why VR, robotics, and direct digital to physiological interfaces are prevalent and actively being researched again. We are easily drawn in to a very solitary space even when we’re communicating with people. One such symptom is verbal and written communication becoming especially tangled with short forms like text and audio into video, gifs, emoji, and even carrying multiple conversations simultaneously across platforms.

Screens draw the vision with imperceptible flickering business and cool light; on the tactile side we have touch, cursors and brushes, and textual inputs that give real and simulated feedbacks; while our brains are stimulated with a boatload of written, generated, and created works that bombard us with almost everything possible we could want to experience visually, audibly, and intellectually. And when novelty runs out there’s the minutia of something else to follow.

Is it any wonder how quiet some places and public transit can get? People withdraw to a favourite or new album, fandom, an episode of something topical, the news, gossip, a book without pages: the person’s physical location (and really, the object of interest’s physical dimensions) stop mattering. They could be in bed, on vacation, or on a space station, and it wouldn’t matter.

***

What it reminds me of is when road rage became a media sensation. Not the strange fascination people had and still have with hair-trigger bursts of violence, but because it was the reaction of people being shocked back into the present moment.

Consumer vehicles in the 1980s and 90s through to now have developed with this immersive design language and technology in mind. Enhanced and assisted controls, refined transmissions, state of the art audio and digital displays, climate controls, sound dampening, and other functions that conceal and seal us in a physical and psychological bubble that distances us from the reality that we’re moving and controlling vehicles, passengers, and sometimes more weight than we want to think about moving at legal speeds.

That is not to say people are less responsible, aware, or responsive; something unexpected happens and it breaks though causing a instinctual reaction of panic or anger like being startled awake or a hypnic jerk.

With the way we are starting to understand less obvious sources of stress and fatigue from sources like diet, lifestyle choices, existing life and social/economic circumstances, but particularly technology and sometimes what it’s shielding or depriving us, I believe there’s a link to those situations with the unbridled comment rage and obsession people have on social media.

Streamed 24-hour news and content cycles, work, leisure, pleasure, entertainment, and social interactions have been forming digital niches for decades now, and new ones appearing all the time. Ballooning echo chambers enhance the polarizations of a compressed world of social, cultural, political, and economic difference; worlds that are continuously in contact, exchange, and clashing with each other while on the same dimensionally flat and virtual space. This doesn’t dismiss any of it as superficial and immaterial when they can actively grow and connect to create real life experiences.

In a way it begins to explain outgrowths of popular culture like binge-watching, idol culture, virtual spectating and e-sports, media/intellectual property franchising, even the soft pop adoption of things like spoilers, trigger warnings, social justice and opposing reactionary movements. Sure, there’s older parallels and similar roles in older media and interactions, but now there’s an increasingly tense breach. On one end, the intense desire and ability to immerse beyond personal limitation to an new extreme (with multiple perspectives, narrative outcomes and specific situations as in video games or a concert, psychological or altered experiences, the perfect persona/character to leverage creative obsession, moral superiority in an expansive argument, or an entire creative work all at once), with overload to the point of exhaustion or degrees of trauma.The latter explains the loss of enjoyment, hyper-critical, and lacking sense of novelty when confronted with so many choices, highlighting where we have very few options and issues beyond our ability to cope.

***

It ties into less direct phenomenon like cultural appropriation, plastic surgery, expansive popular body modification, as well as self-referential culture like hipsters, memes, and faux social “irony”. Cultural appropriation, misuse of cultural property, and plain prejudicial racism highlight the clearer and the ambiguous borders of cultural protectionism blockades. Depending on the context and severity, it can also illuminate the complex dynamics of where advantages are, who can effectively claim ownership, and who feels entitled to abuse and take. There aren’t pointless fights and returns to the consistent experience of threat of loss or lack of respect to a less powerful community identity.

Tattoos, piercings, surgical mods and manipulations continue as traditional sensory, cultural, aesthetic, and ritual experiences yet have been tuned very differently. Appropriation of social purpose, conservation of styles as well as techniques and designs, purpose, narrative, or communal resonance can become secondary to aims of achieving a sense of conformity, visual/functional manipulation, producing or enhancing ambiguity, and intentional divergence. Literally embedding a sense-barrier of a design that draws attention, repels it, or visually/mentally/functionally changes

***

People have become less particular about how they want to react or deal with situations. Apathy and affected uncaring becomes part of a circuit of actively, over-invested and corresponding counter statements. It’s a world where we’re bombarded with filtered and unfiltered, poorly fact-checked opinions that stack up and we replicate them in a race not to be accurate or correct, but to rebuild the crumbling barriers as they fall.

#state of the world #writing #works

1 note · View note

kerbaldevteam · 6 years ago

Text

KSP Weekly: Project Daedalus

Welcome to KSP Weekly! Have you ever heard of Project Daedalus? One of the first detailed design studies of an interstellar spacecraft, Project Daedalus was conducted between 1973 and 1977 by a group of 11 scientists and engineers belonging to the British Interplanetary Society. Intended mainly as a scientific probe, the design criteria specified that the spacecraft had to use existing or near-future technology and had to be able to reach its destination within a human lifetime. Alan Bond led a team of scientists and engineers who proposed using a fusion rocket to reach Barnard's Star 5.9 light years away. The trip was estimated to take 50 years, but the design was required to be flexible enough that it could be sent to any other target star.

The proposed design would have been 190 meters long and have weighed about 2400 metric tons; 18x bigger than the largest payload ever launched to orbit. Therefore, it would be constructed in Earth orbit. Daedalus was to be a two-stage spacecraft. The first stage would operate for two years, taking the spacecraft to 7.1% of light speed, and then after it was jettisoned, the second stage would fire for 1.8 years, taking the spacecraft up to about 12% of light speed, before being shut down for a 46-year cruise period. Due to the extreme temperature range of operation required, from near absolute zero to 1600 K, the engine bells and support structure would be made of molybdenum alloyed with titanium, zirconium, and carbon, which retains strength even at cryogenic temperatures.

Daedalus would be propelled by a fusion rocket using pellets of a deuterium/helium-3 mix that would be ignited in the reaction chamber by inertial confinement using electron beams. The electron beam system would be powered by a set of induction coils trapping energy from the plasma-exhaust stream. 250 pellets would be detonated per second, and the resulting plasma would be directed by a magnetic nozzle. Due to scarcity of helium-3 on Earth, it was to be mined from the atmosphere of Jupiter by large hot-air balloon supported robotic factories over a 20-year period, or from a more abundant source, such as the Moon.

The second stage would have two 5-metre optical telescopes and two 20-metre radio telescopes. About 25 years after launch these telescopes would begin examining the area around Barnard's Star to learn more about any accompanying planets, the main reason why the star was the chosen target, although we learned later that the star doesn’t have any orbiting planets. This information would be sent back to Earth, using the 40-metre diameter second stage engine bell as a communications dish, and targets of interest would be selected. Since the spacecraft would not decelerate, upon reaching Barnard's Star, Daedalus would carry 18 autonomous sub-probes that would be launched between 7.2 and 1.8 years before the main craft entered the target system. These sub-probes would be propelled by nuclear-powered ion drives and would carry cameras, spectrometers, and other sensory equipment. The sub-probes would fly past their targets, still traveling at 12% of the speed of light, and transmit their findings back to the Daedalus' second stage, mothership, for relay back to Earth.

Although the concept was far from perfect, it did demonstrate that we might be capable of building an interstellar spacecraft in the near future. And if not, it allows us nerds to at least dream of such a fantastic feat.

[Development news start here]

This has been an exciting week at the KSPHQ. Patch 1.4.4 was released yesterday, and with it, a wide array of enhancements: from performance and wheel suspension improvements as well as the in-game integration of some really cool Steam features, this patch is meant to further advance the KSP game experience. Click here to read the full release notes.

Any successful release always comes with a broad spectrum of tasks, from last minute fixes and polishing to merging branches, preparing the release candidate, testing it and uploading the final build to all platforms. Any release always has all of the team on its toes. This one was no exception. We are very happy with the results, too. Since the very beginning we have taken feedback from the players very seriously and this patch includes several elements taken directly from community suggestions. For instance, the integration of Steam Workshop will facilitate both craft and mission sharing among Steam users, and let us drive visibility to some of those creations. Cloud Saves for both game saves and missions are also now implemented on Steam (Here’s an example of how you can setup your own Cloud in case you are not a Steam user).You can read more about the newly implemented Steam features here.

We are already featuring some cool missions in in this newly born Hub, including a couple of missions made by some of our team. Simple, yet fun, these missions are meant to showcase how anyone can be a Mission Designer. Check them out and let us know your thoughts. We’ll be adding more featured missions in time, so check the Steam Workshop Hub regularly.

The improvement and expansion of the controller support for the game via the Steam Controller framework has also been a heavily requested feature. We’ve added two different presets for you to choose from: the Advanced and Simplified Presets. The former is a comprehensive preset that includes all the commands and functions a veteran player would expect. The Simplified Preset is meant to be more approachable to players and be as similar as possible to the Cursor Preset from KSP Enhanced Edition. Click here to see the new controller layouts.

KSP Enhanced Edition also has a patch on the way. If you’ve been following us, you’ll know that aside from several bug fixes and improvements, we are also implementing new quality-of-life features taken directly from feedback provided by the community. For instance, BlitWorks managed to include a missing element from the PC version into Enhanced Edition: The Physwarp. The Physwarp allows you to perform warps within atmospheres, but all at your own risk. You’ll be able to enable it from the Radial Menu and speed up time up to x4 to shorten the length of time it normally takes to perform a task.

If you’re not a Steam user or you just want to share your creations to everyone regardless of the platform they use to play KSP, don’t forget that you can also share and download missions on Curse, KerbalX, and the KSP Forum.

That’s it for this week. Be sure to join us on our official forums, and don’t forget to follow us on Twitter and Facebook. Stay tuned for more exciting and upcoming news and development updates!

Happy launchings!

PS: Kerbal Space Program and the Making History Expansion are included in the Steam Summer Sale! With discounts of 60% and 30% respectively, this is one of the biggest discount ever for the base game, and the biggest ever for Making History. So now is a fantastic opportunity to get your copy and/or have your friends join you in space. We are also matching these discounts on the KSP Store.

*Information Source:

Darling, D. (n.d.). Project Daedalus. Retrieved from http://www.daviddarling.info/encyclopedia/D/Daedalus.html

Bisbos.com. (n.d.). Retrieved from http://www.bisbos.com/space_n_daedalus.html

(n.d.). Retrieved from https://www.webcitation.org/query?url=http://www.geocities.com/TelevisionCity/2049/DAEDALUS.HTM&date=2009-10-25 11:06:11

#ksp weekly #Kerbal Space Program #project daedalus #making history expansion #ksp enhanced edition #patch 1.4.4 #dailykerbal

9 notes · View notes

techdo · 7 years ago

Text

Long Live TrackPoint!

Today the ThinkPad is a brand synonymous with business grade, reliable, solid looking black laptops which could be used as a shield in times of crisis. When the design was first developed, the great industrial designer Richard Sapper drove ideas and produced concepts for IBM on which the ThinkPad is still based today. One of his original concepts can be seen here in a post by David Hill: http://blog.lenovo.com/en/blog/richard-sapper-the-origins-of-the-thinkpad-keyboard

The red in the ThinkPad logo today is representative of the TrackPoint, the pointing device which sits boldly in the centre of ThinkPad keyboards. The TrackPoint is intrinsic to the overall iconic look of ThinkPad and it is a source of pride for a lot of ThinkPad users. On the occasions where a tech journalist or blogger might cast negativity towards the TrackPoint they often find it is a bit like poking a bear when the fans assertively respond.

Occasionally being an angry TrackPoint defender myself I wondered how much I could find out about the TrackPoint and its history. That is what lead me to the honor of communicating with David Hill (http://www.dwhilldesign.com/biography.php) and Ted Selker (http://www.ted.selker.com/index.htm) both of whom have had a great deal of involvement in the ThinkPad history.

I had the pleasure of chatting with David Hill over the phone early one morning and was able to ask him a few questions around the ThinkPad and I have paraphrased his answers below:

Q1) Might I please ask, when the original ThinkPad design was being outlined was their much debate over how mouse control would be integrated?

Richard Sapper had a great input on the ThinkPad design and he discovered a pointing device that Ted Selker and Joe Rutledge were working on, they it had located in a desktop keyboard.

Q2) Could I please ask why Red was chosen as the colour of the TrackPoint

Richard Sapper wanted to call attention to the TrackPoint. However red was somewhat of a challenge to get approved by IBM. At the time of the time of the design work, Red was the colour reserved for server and mainframe room Emergency Power Off switches and only EPO switches. With a little persistence and some clever creative thinking by Mr Sapper the colour IBM Magenta was created.

(Authors note: having looked at original ThinkPad 700 Series machines, IBM Magenta is as red as its possible to be without actually being red, confirming for me Richard Sapper was indeed a genius!)

Q3) From time to time reviewers and social media commentators are dismissive of the TrackPoint considering it dated or unnecessary.

David gave a great analogy of the Trackpoint, he likened it to a manual car transmission, it takes a little more getting used to than an automatic transmission but once you have the feel for it you have a greater degree of control of the driving experience. Similarly, the TrackPoint offers a much more accurate control of the mouse pointer than other devices. Those who comment negatively are unlikely to have given it a try.

Q4) Could I please ask if you recall any major changes and possible engineering challenges since the original implementation?

The original TrackPoint cap was smooth, Ted Selker worked to improve traction and developed the Cat Tongue cap. This cap improved precision but could cause a finger callus from prolonged use. This lead me to start the initiative to produce different designs such as, Soft Dome and Soft Rim. For a time ThinkPads were shipped with a selection of caps allowing customers to choose.

In addition to this from the original pointing device and two buttons a third button was added to give much improved scroll experience. The third button, which enables scrolling, was first placed below the two other buttons. I felt this was problematic since it took up valuable internal real estate and it was nearly impossible to reach with your thumb conveniently. I moved it between the other two buttons using a keystone shape. This shape allowed for effective button sizes and mapped to the different direction of movement. I first had the idea when I was working on a Butterfly 2 concept, with the late Dr. Karidis, that had no palm rest and thus no space for a third button. Necessity is often the mother of invention.

I was also able to reach out to Ted Selker who is still very enthusiastic about the TrackPoint and he was kind enough to answer some questions I had via email.

Q1) I believe you had the idea of a pointing stick or navigation device in a keyboard before you joined IBM or the ThinkPad was on the drawing board. Do you recall what triggered the idea?

I was reading the JUST published HCI book by Card and Moran in 1983... I saw on one page where it seemed that the time to reach for a mouse was like a second.

I had looked at data in English and Engebarts 1967 paper about the fact that a kneebar was better than a mouse for the first 15 minutes... i thought well, though a kneebar is bad because there is now detailed representation of the knee in the motor or sensor homunculus,,, till a person gets good at using the mouse, but the kneebar doesn't take your hands off the keyboard.

Q2) During development or implementation what do you feel were the largest obstacles to overcome?

OMG...so many things…

making a joystick make selections as fast as a mouse against theory that said this was impossible!

making a good way to touch it without slipping

making a good way of selecting with buttons

finding a place that it didn't get struck by fingers

Q3) How does the TrackPoint we know now, compare for look and feel with the device you first envisaged?

I started with an erasure under the space bar on a joystick (1984)

Then a joystick under a key (1984 at Stanford and again in 1989 at IBM)

Then a rod shaped metal thing (1989)

Then a cup shaped piece of plastic (1990)

Then a special 55 Durometer bending part with an air suspension and a latex grippy top (1992)

(and 50 worse idea versions it contended with for a top)

Then a Santoprene version that was mas produced but not delivered to customers

(because they would have had to kill me first)

Then a 55 Durometer Buytl rubber top (product announce)

Then a fish scale skin top 1994 prototype (and many other cool tops)

Then a nylon pieces sticking out of the top

Then using the cup shaped grip idea in that we first used in a handle controller for airtrafic control

And an alternative large surface convex top that also reduces pressure on the finger

The buttons started as small making them bigger and requiring less pressure imprpoved user pointing performance!

A generation of ThinkPads included locking buttons that I designed for people with special needs, press to select eliminated the need for these.

Then a press to select , press to magnify, press to scroll gesture language built in.

Then a middle button for treating the stick as a second device

The algorithms changed and improved substantially from Trackpoint II in 1993 to Trackpoint III in 1995

The newer Trackpoint III ( has negative inertia which makes it 15% faster at selection than Trackpoint II... this feature models starting and stopping and enhances them (kind a like ABS brakes do for stopping a car)

Q4) Are you aware of the staunch following of die hard fans the Trackpoint has today?

I am deeply proud of that and only wait for the day that I might improve it some more

Q5) Many fans debate and argue with others the accuracy and efficiency of the TrackPoint over other input devices. How would you best summarize how accurate and efficient the TrackPoint is?

Careful experiments were done in labs in NY, Florida, TX, NC, Japan and later CA…that all showed that people could learn to use the TrackPoint better than a trackpad in less than a minute if they tried :

Trackpoint is 20% faster for pointing than a trackpad

Trackpoint is at least 20% faster than a mouse for point and type (text editing like things)

Trackpoint could be made much better for drawing and for new displays and so on... i want to do it still.

Q6) I have used the TrackPoint for everything up to and including photo editing. Are you aware of any implementation or uses of the TrackPoint which might seem out of the ordinary?

We used it for lapersocopy at Johns Hopkins (this reduced dexterity problems caused by tremor in surgeons hands controlling a camera inside a patient)

We used it for selecting ground traffic control of airplanes (saved a 30 million dollar contract)

Blind people said they loved it because it didn’t require them to put their finger in a place determined by the cursor or mouse.

People with prosthetics said they liked it because it reduces tremor too

Old people liked it because it reduced the effects of tremor on cursor control

I used it for its 16 bit a/d (Analog to Digital) converter to teach science ...we have to talk about the science wand

I have to say thank you to David Hill and Ted Selker for being so forthcoming with details. I gained so much more information form them both but had to trim this down for post length. Also a big Thank you to Gavin O’Hara for his assistance with this post.

3 notes · View notes

donpriyantha · 5 years ago

Text

We; ‘Kele Group’ had conducted yet another successful trip to Wilpattu National Park [hereafter WNP]. The group was housed at ‘Marandamaduwa’ circuit bungalow from 27th February to 2nd March, 2020.

Visitors could see the Villus were full of water as water levels were very close to jungle patches. Heat was not a problem as upper level tree branches cover roads from direct sun rays.

There were several new comers with three young ‘fellas’ from same Collage. Roshan and wife from Galle was invited by Lakshman and ‘Kulta’ [Kularathne] and his sister-in-law was invited by Salinda. Mohan and his son Gaveen and Savindra was invited by yours truly, and where, Savi is son of yours truly. Malith invited his beloved Anuja and their son Rasindu. Kithsiri of water board fame was invited by . Asela who was an old member but did not tour with us for some time , was invited by Salinda.

Later, Rasindu did some antics and driven to instant popularity but I will keep the details for future.

One could see a juvenile sambur had taken refuge at Maradanmadu bungalow with two ‘rilavas’. Sambur was adorable at first and everybody started taking ‘phone photos’ and selfies but soon the bungalow staff [Amila] informed that it was a nuisance and seeking food. That warning was later confirmed when sambur broke one or two glasses on table reaching for half eaten sandwich. Rilavas were prepared to put more dangerous acts and instantly they declared war with human intruders. As I can remember it was innocent Malith who was checking his sleeping chambers [for next three nights] came under sudden attack by two rilava terrorists. The duo came top of hand rail and was ready to enter the same sleeping chamber with Malith. When Malith challenged the terrorist duo, they became aggressive. Fortunately, by this time noises reached downstairs and handful of ‘KG’ rear guard advanced to trouble spot with couple of brooms and animal intruders were chased away.

these crocs fear sambur, whenever crocs see sambur coming to lake, they run

But the story did not finish at this point. The same terrorist duo attacked our breakfast table in the following morning with lightning speed. Nobody, including more experienced Amila the bungalow keeper envisaged this attack. In a single file, both terrorists entered restaurant. Seeing this all most all visitors frozen with fear and three young bucks from City Collage [who had seen all Terminator, Rambo and Autobot movies] ran for cover. Two rilvas grabbed several slizes of bread [some say 4 slizes each and some 5] from main breakfast table and ran off.

First day afternoon trip was yet another sleepy affair. We were instructed not to drink water but cool beer due to ‘covid-9’ virus and after heavy lunch most of us were sleepy. We saw some eagles, dear and some land monitors. One of our heroes to be; Rasindu was probably feeling bored started picking leaves and keeping his hands [mainly right hand] outside of moving, open jeep. Two or three persons warned him against this dangerous practice but all notices were ignored. There was a single cracking sound and several people heard this including vigilant driver. Rasindu gave sharp cry and started crying holding his hand. Vehicle was stopped and subsequently got front vehicle to stop too. Asela who is a practitioner of one of noblest profession in the world came in to the rescue of the child. He felt that there is a deformity in straight bone, just before wrist and did first aid made a sling to keep hand still. Later Rasindu’s parents were informed as they were in the leading vehicle. All proceeded to the bungalow and one jeep went out of WNP with tracker, Asela, Rasindu and his parents. Later we got to know that the party went to Anuradapura base hospital and saw an orthopedic surgeon and the deformity corrected and a plaster was done to stabilize hand. It was close to midnight when they arrive at last.

We come back to the story where all came to the bungalow, again and start from there. After usual bathing and adorning colorful dresses rest of the party gathered for first dinner.

It was Savindra’s 14th b’day and surprised party and cake was organized by Salinda, Malkanthi and Savindra’s father; yours truly. As a friend, only Gaveen could attend the party sans Rasindu.

Second day; 28th February, 2020, we found that the accident party returned last night and everybody wanted to know details. As usual Salinda arranged new comers to visit ‘Kudiramalei Point’ and two vehicles went on that trip. One vehicle went on a usual morning excursion with Asela, Sarath Athuruliya, Sarath Guruge, Kithsiri and yours truly. People who went were mainly shutterbugs with SLR cameras and some with fairly long lenses.

As I can remember Malith waited at bungalow and Anuja went to Kudiramale on one of the vehicles. Following are some of the eagles’ images by yours truly.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Please keep your cursor on top of images to see animated slideshow

More photographs are coming in future.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Not the end.

KG trip to Maradanmaduwa, Wilpattu; 27th February, 2020 We; ‘Kele Group’ had conducted yet another successful trip to Wilpattu National Park . The group was housed at ‘Marandamaduwa’ circuit bungalow from 27th February to 2nd March, 2020.

0 notes