#love these two grumpy old men with scottish accents

[gwinverarrouz]

THE FINALE OF THE TRIAL OF DELTASONG DANGER IS UP! And what a finale! I drew so much art I couldn't possibly fit it all in one post. In my defence the game ended up being almost 5 hour long and it's filled with so many great moments, so, here are the first ones :D

With @modmad as the DM, the Engineer and the Jester (and many others), @artist-of-obsessions as Scru McCodger, @cartoon-kitsune as Ida and @samaranth as Griffin!

Part 2 of my doodles for this game here, the rest of my fanart for this series there :D

[fedeipox]

The Way of Time (Rdr2 fanfic) - Chapter 2 (3/3)

The day has finally come!! I post this one and run in the leaving room where my beautiful Christmas Tree is waiting to be decorated! Am I the only one who loves Christmas so desperately?

Part 1 here: https://fedeipox.tumblr.com/post/636417099433164800/the-way-of-time-rdr2-fanfic-chapter-2-13

Part 2 here: https://fedeipox.tumblr.com/post/636678045617537024/the-way-of-time-rdr2-fanfic-chapter-2-23

Chapter 2 (3/3) - Like King Arthur?

Words: 3,4k

The landscape was changing. Finally they had left the mountain, the ground was plainer, the grass visible under that poor snow that still persisted, too stubborn to let the sun melt it, and the path they were following was leading them from forests to open fields and then to rivers.

Emily had no idea of which time was it, but a dull rumbling of her stomach told her it was time to pull those oatcakes out to finish them. She opened the buttons of the bottle-green coat and unzipped her sweatshirt just what was necessary to put a hand inside and take the tin box she had hidden in there.

Feeling the eyes of the old man on her, she turned to look at him and showed him the box.

“You want some?” she asked.

“Nah, thank you. Never liked them” he replied shaking his hand in denial. 

“Trust me, right now, they are the best thing I’ve ever had” she replied turning around.

“Hey, Jack. You want some?” she asked to the kid, who stood up to put a hand inside the box and took out one of the big round cookies. 

Emily made the same gesture to the freckled woman who looked at her out of the corner of her eye in some kind of hostility. 

It was true she wasn’t planning to stay with them, but that was no reason why she had to be rude, or not make amends for her behavior. 

“I’m sorry for last night. I was a piece of shit. Oops… sorry Jack” she addressed the boy, who looked at her as he kept chewing his oatcake. 

“It’s just… I was scared, I am scared, and… when I’m scared I have the tendency to lose my mind.”

The woman fixed her eyes on the bottom of the wagon among the boxes, carpets and bedrolls, purposefully not looking back at her.

“Peace” said Emily shaking the oatcake box in her direction.

The woman sighed and took one as a way to accept her apology. 

“I’m Emily. I think you got it, by now. What’s your name?” 

“Molly.”

“You’re Irish, aren’t you? Or Scottish? I’m not good with accents.”

“My family came from Ireland, yes.”

She didn’t sound like she was in the mood for conversation.

“What about you, Mister? What’s your name?” she asked to the nice grandpa. 

“You can call me Uncle, dear.”

“Uncle?” Emily laughed. “Don’t you have a real name?”

“No-one knows his real name” answered Hosea, rising his voice to be heard over the noise of hooves and creaking wheels. 

“And how did you call him when he was young?” Emily asked amused.

“He’s never been young” replied Hosea.

Emily laughed heartily. They could be criminals, but they were fun, and kind, and fair and everything else that did not match with the idea she had about criminals. None of them had tried to rape her, hurt her, threat her. There was that Micah of course, who she didn’t like, and Karen was a little… unpleasant, but the rest of them seemed normal. And then there was the fact that they were in 1899, but they didn’t look much different from the people of her time. 

Looking at the two men on the leading place of the wagon, she exchanged a look with the man with the blue coat. 

“And you?” she asked not without feeling a little embarrassed.

“What?”

“What’s your name?”

“Arthur.”

“Like King Arthur?” she said surprised.

“Like Arthur Morgan” he replied serious.

Emily laughed again, this time louder.

“Like King Arthur and Morgan le Fay? Are you kidding me?”

“Do I look like a joker to you?”

Emily bursted out laughing. She couldn’t help it, she loved that irony, it was one of the things she found most entertaining and funny in the world. The pity was, she didn’t know many ironic people. When she finally could breathe again, she dried the tears from her eyes and took one of the oatcakes. 

“Careful back there, we’re crossing a river” said Charles Smith from the front of the wagon.

“A river? With the wagons?” Emily asked.

Then, she looked around and noticed the path they were following was on the edge of a ravine and there was a water sound, not the calm bubbling of a flowing river, but something more powerful like…

“A waterfall!” she exclaimed turning around to look at it.

“What, you never saw a waterfall?” asked Uncle.

“Only on TV.”

“Excuse me?”

“Never mind, it’s a long story.”

Putting her knees on the bottom of the wagon, where she was seated a few moments before, she raised just what was necessary to look at the caravan ahead. They were crossing the river right before it bended over and crashed down the fall. 

What an experience that was going to be! She had never crossed a river, and even less a waterfall, and even lesser with a wagon. 

She sat again and waited patiently until she felt the wagon jolt and the tip of her shoes brushing against the water surface. She giggled watching the clear water ripple under her. In that moment she felt younger, she felt like a child, with her heart light and her mind empty from every kind of thought. 

She turned her head towards the waterfall and the view that opened to her eyes took her breath away. She couldn’t believe that was America, the place she was born and grown in. Where had those places been until then? 

Right there, of course, but she never had had the chance to go and see them. She had never traveled, never set a foot out of Lemoyne. School trips? Yes, the one day trips, those that didn’t cost much, those her family could afford. The old Saint Denis museums, the Civil War Memorial, Rhodes, the old Braithwaite Manor… there wasn’t much in Lemoyne after all. 

They forded the river, slowly and carefully, and reached the other side of it, when…

“Get us out the stream” she heard Hosea saying.

The wagon she was in slowed down until Charles Smith made it stop completely. 

“You gotta keep us moving, but calm” added Hosea as he signaled Mr. Arthur to get out of the water.

Their wagon was moving with a strange wobble and as soon as they got out of the river it bended on one side with a loud terrible noise. 

“Ahh shit!” sweared Mr. Morgan.

“What happened?” asked Emily. 

“Ahh I broke the goddamn wheel!” complained Mr. Morgan.

Emily looked at him as he got down the wagon and asked herself why he was so grumpy.

“Is he always this angry?” she asked to Uncle. 

“Oh, you have no idea” he replied with a chuckle.

“Alright, let’s get it fixed” said Hosea with much more optimism than Arthur.

“What’s going on?” asked another voice and turning around she noticed one of the men that was following the caravan at horseback had come back to check what had happened. It was the man with the ridiculous mustache and bowler hat.

“They broke the wheel” she answered.

“You need help?” he asked.

“I reckon we can handle it” she heard Hosea saying.

Without thinking, she jumped down the wagon. Why had she done it? She was curious, about how they would have fixed the wheel and about that angry criminal with the fairytale name. Charles Smith had left the wagon too and walked past her to go help them.

“See you later” said Uncle and when she turned to look at him, the wagon had just started to move away.

She waved at him and then exchanged a look with the man on the horse who nodded to her and hit the spurs to follow the wagon which in so little time was already so far away from her. 

“Alright Charles, you and me hold the thing up while you try and put the wheel back on, Arthur” said Hosea.

“Can I help?” Emily asked as she reached the back of the broken wagon.

“No” answered Arthur making the wheel roll on the ground. 

“You sure you’re still strong enough to hold up a wagon, Hosea?” he asked then, lifting the wheel from the ground and placing it where she belonged.

So, that’s how they fixed wheels in 1899, placing them back. Much easier than change a car tire. 

“Shut up” said Hosea.

“I’m just saying.”

“Well, say less.”

That little teasing between them made Emily chuckle.

When the wheel broke, some crates fell on the ground with an empty barrel and a carpet too, which had rolled a little bit away, so she walked in its direction to pick it up.

“See, you ain’t so useless after all” Morgan joked.

Hosea laughed before answering “not quite”. 

She turned around and handed the carpet roll to Charles Smith who loaded it on the wagon. Then, she bended and took one of the crates, but when she tried to pass it to Hosea, she saw the man was looking up, his attention caught by something else.

She looked up too, bringing a hand to her forehead to cover her eyes from the direct light of the sun, and spotted three figures at horseback looking down at them, and they looked like…

“Natives?” she asked.

“What do you think?” asked Morgan.

“If they wanted trouble we wouldn’t have seen ‘em” replied Charles Smith.

“Poor bastards… we really screwed them over down here. Pardon my French, Miss” said Hosea.

Emily looked at him and smiled.

“Yeah, you should hear my French” she joked and looked again at the three Natives.

“What happened?” asked Arthur.

Emily turned to look at him in disbelief.

“What, you lived it and you have no idea of what happened?” she asked.

“You do?” he asked back.

“We better go, let’s not push our luck, we’ll talk later” said Hosea walking to the front of the wagon.

Mr. Morgan did the same, while Charles Smith climbed on the back and then turned around to reach out a hand that Emily took to lift herself on it. She and Mr. Charles sat one opposite to the other and she had been lucky enough to sit on a rolled carpet.

“Not too far now. Stay on this trail. We’ll follow the river then cut left inland” said Hosea. “So, you know what happened” he stated then turning around to look at her.

“Of course I do. Everybody does. It’s one of the bloodiest chapters in history.”

From the looks they gave her, she could tell they were expecting her to say something more.

“Anyway, they took their lands, stole everything they had, and moved them away, not to mention the massacres of the wars.”

“Thank goodness those have ended” replied Hosea.

“Nothing has ended. The abuses against the Natives will be carried on until the first half of the 21st century.”

“And how can you make such a statement?” asked Hosea narrowing his eyes to look at her carefully.

“I think I’ve made that part clear.”

Mr. Morgan scoffed.

“What, that you come from the future?” he asked skeptically.

Emily sighed as an answer. She would have never convinced them of that. 

“You are a Native, right?” she asked to Charles Smith.

“By mother. My father was a colored man.”

“Wow that’s unusual. You must be proud of it” she replied with a surprised smile.

“Not really.”

“Why not? Such a rare happening, different cultures, different stories… it’s beautiful.” “Not everybody thinks the same.”

“W-what…”

She had to remember to herself where she was, when she was, to understand what he meant. 

“What about your parents? Where are they?” she asked.

“I don’t know. The army came and took my mother when I was little. I left my father’s house when I was thirteen.”

“Why?”

“He was a sad man, especially after what happened to my mother, and the alcohol had a mean hold on him.”

Disappeared mother, drunk father, that man had a terrible story, and she could feel his sadness through that deep voice he had. Without thinking, she did what she thought to be the right thing and leaned forward to hug him.

“Oh, I’m so sorry” she murmured.

“W-what are you doing?” he asked.

Emily let him go and frowned at him looking at his bewildered face.

“Erm… showing my sympathy?” she answered.

“Why?” he replied defensive.

Emily kept looking at him and then moved her eyes on Hosea, who had a surprised expression just like Charles Smith. And she couldn’t say the same of Mr. Morgan, because he was driving, but she reckoned he was asking himself what the hell was she doing too. 

“Because that’s what people do? Your story is terrible, you must have suffered a lot and I want you to know that I’m here if you want to talk.”

He kept looking at her like she was speaking Chinese. So it was true what they said, in the past people were truly cold and unsympathetic. Probably no-one had ever told him something like that.

“So now you’ll go around and hold people to show them your sympathy?” asked Mr. Morgan sarcastic. 

Emily laughed at his provocation. 

“No, not everybody. Only those who deserve it. What about you Arthur Morgan? What’s your story?”

“We found young Arthur here when he was like what… fifteen?” Hosea asked him.

“Yeah, more or less” Arthur replied.

“A wilder delinquent you never did see. But he learned fast” added Hosea.

“So you didn’t have any family?” Emily asked.

“Orphan, they both died when I was very young.”

“Oh my…” she whispered.

Was there anyone who had had a normal life? A normal childhood? A happy childhood? She asked herself as a great pity raised in her for those people. She wasn’t surprised they all became criminals, in someway they didn’t have a choice. And what about the girls? What kind of life did they have? Mary-Beth, Tilly, Abigail? What was their story? If the men had been so unfortunate, she could only imagine what it had to be for the women, because we all know for women is always worse.

“So, what now? You’re gonna hold me too?” asked Mr. Morgan with that sarcastic tone.

“No” she said and immediately looked away when he turned his head to glance at her. “Not anymore” she added.

...

Arthur laughed focusing again on the road. She was something, with that childish enthusiasm for waterfalls and that sympathy for people with sad stories and that claim of her provenience from the future. She was the strangest creature he had ever met and the same was thinking Charles, who couldn’t move his eyes from her since she had touched him. No-one had ever showed that interest for his origin, that compassion for his past, that kindness for him, and especially a white girl. He wasn’t used to that. 

“What about your story, Miss Emily?” asked Hosea who wasn’t less stroke by her strange behavior. 

“There’s nothing interesting to say about me, I’m afraid. I’m born in Saint Denis and there I lived my whole life with my mom and dad. I’d never thought to say that but…compared to you I feel extremely lucky. I have a family and friends and a job… well, I had a family, friends and a job.”

Charles noticed her own words had caused something inside her and her eyes suddenly lost the light. She fixed them on the distance, watching everything and nothing at the same time. Why did he have the impression that girl was telling the truth? All that story seemed absurd, but the change of her expression was genuine. 

“Listen, I don’t know what to think of it” said Hosea as he understood that too.

“I know, you can’t believe me” she said brushing her tears away.

“And I don’t expect you to. I just don’t know what to do. Even if I went to Saint Denis, there would be nothing for me there. I have no place, I have no-one, I have nothing”

“Yes, you do. You have us” replied Hosea.

She looked at him with those big dark eyes that shined in the sun like they produced their own light.

“We’ll take care of you, like we’ve been taking care of each other in the last twenty years.”

“But… but you are…”

“Outlaws? Yes. Bad people? Also probably yes. But we are also a family.”

The girl smiled and dried the last tears from her eyes, which all of a sudden had recovered that light that made her look younger and innocent and pure, a purity of spirit Hosea hadn’t seen in many people, and it needed protection from that cruel world they lived in. 

...

Her own words had crushed inside her like an airplane, but the more Hosea talked to her the better she felt. That man had a way of talking that could calm a ferocious bear, and she just couldn’t believe he was a criminal. He was so sweet, kind, and he was caring about her, when no-one did. Maybe she didn’t have to leave them, maybe she could stay with them just what was necessary to understand what she wanted to do with her forced new life. 

“You know you’re gonna have to teach me how to do everything, right? I come from a time when we have a lot of things which you have not” she said.

“Like what?” asked Charles Smith. 

She looked around her trying to think about something.

“Like, erm, I don’t know, like cars. Wagons without horses” she said.

“We have them. People already posses them in the East” replied Hosea.

“Really? What about, erm, phones?”

“You mean telephones? You can find it at the Sheriff’s office, they let you use it if you ask.”

Emily widened her eyes in surprise, wishing she had a better knowledge of inventions of the 1800��s. 

“And showers?” she asked.

It came to her mind and for a moment she wished they had showers too, so she could have one as soon as they got to Valentine.

“Showers?” asked Hosea.

“Yes, when the water comes from above, from the shower head” she explained.

“Like the rain?” asked Charles.

“No, I-I… l-like…” 

She had no idea how to make them understand.

“How do you wash?” she asked. Maybe starting from their point of view, it would have been easier.

“In the bathtub?” said Mr. Morgan.

“Okay, a bathtub, great, now think about water, okay? Coming from a pipe which falls from above, and you wash under it, and then the water flaws inside the bathtub and in the pipes again.”

She felt like an idiot, with her arm stretched up in the air making the water-that-comes-from-the-shower sign. 

“Why should water come from above if you can fill the bathtub?” asked Arthur.

“Because this way is cleaner. When you have a bath you basically swim in your own filth, is unhygienic” Emily explained.

The three of them chuckled and snorted. Emily did the same, shaking her head and thinking it was for the best if they didn’t talk about modern inventions anymore.

“You know, I’m almost tempted to believe you really come from the future, I don’t think you can make up something like showers” said Mr. Arthur.

“Yeah, maybe I’ll patent it, so I’ll become rich” she joked.

A movement from her left made her jerk around, and what she saw made her heart jump and a rush of excitement ran in her veins.

“A deer!” she yelled.

“Look, look, a deer!” she said pointing at the animal jumping up and down until it reached the river.

Hearing that shrieking, the deer stopped to look at her with its ears stretched up.

“And if you don’t stop yelling that’s the first and last you’ll ever see” Morgan said annoyed.

Emily pouted at his reproach.

“Sorry, I’ve never seen one” she murmured looking down. 

“Never saw a waterfall, never saw a deer. You are a real city girl” said Arthur with some sort of mocking in his voice.

“Yes, I am, And I’m proud of it.”

Mr. Morgan scoffed.

“What? I am. Cities are great, always alive, always full of people, opportunities…”

“Overwhelming chaos” said Hosea.

“Arrogant sons of bitches” added Arthur.

“Filthy air” ended Charles Smith.

“Yeah, well… it has its flaws” she admitted in the end.

A glimpse of the sun light reflected on the water of the flat river and caught her attention on the spectacular landscape. She inhaled deeply and the smell of grass and trees and flowers entered in her nostrils, having a sort of lulling effect on her mind.

“Yeah, cities are great. But I think I prefer the country.”

[forgottenlivesobverse]

Philip Purser-Hallard Q&A

Our final Q&A is with Forgotten Lives’ editor Philip Purser-Hallard. His story for the book, ‘House of Images’, features the Robert Banks Stewart Doctor, and opens like this:

‘The usual dreadful creaking and bellowing from the rooms above the dusty office informed me that the Doctor would soon be coming down to check on my progress. I really don’t know what he does up there to make that racket. If you asked me, I’d have to guess that he’s trying to invent a mechanical walrus, and enjoying some success.

‘Honestly, Auntie, I wouldn’t put it past him. My employer is a strange man, with obsessive interests and a deeply peculiar sense of humour.’

 FL: Tell us a little about yourself.

PPH: I’m a middle-aged writer, editor and Doctor Who fan; also a husband, father, vegetarian, cat-lover, beer-drinker and board games geek.

A couple of decades ago I wrote stories for some of the earliest Doctor Who charity ‘fanthologies’, Perfect Timing 2 and Walking in Eternity (whose co-editor, Jay Eales, has contributed to Forgotten Lives). These led directly to my published work in multiple Doctor Who spinoff and tie-in series, starting with Faction Paradox.

Since then, among other things, I’ve written a trilogy of urban fantasy political thrillers for Snowbooks, and two Sherlock Holmes novels for Titan Books. I’ve also edited six volumes of fiction for Obverse Books, in the City of the Saved and Iris Wildthyme series. And I founded, coedit, and have written two-and-a-half books for, The Black Archive, Obverse’s series of critical monographs on individual Doctor Who stories. (Mine are on Battlefield, Human Nature / The Family of Blood and Dark Water / Death in Heaven.)

But those two anthologies are where it all started.

FL: How did you conceive this project?

PPH: I’m fascinated by unconventional approaches to Doctor Who, an interest fostered by three decades spent reading the Virgin New Adventures, the BBC Eighth Doctor Adventures and such experimental spinoffs as Faction Paradox and Iris Wildthyme. (Again, I’m glad to have worked with alumni of those series, including Simon Bucher-Jones and Lance Parkin, on Forgotten Lives.) I love the Doctor Who extended universe when it’s at its most radical, questioning, deconstructive and subversive. The Morbius Doctors, standing outside the canon with a foot in the door, are a great vehicle for exploring that.

Once I had the idea for the anthology, the charitable cause followed naturally. These are the lives that the later Doctors have forgotten, and that loss of identity and memory could only put me in mind of the experience of my grandmother, who lived with Alzheimer’s for many years before her death. Gran was a shrewd, intelligent woman, and it was deeply upsetting to see her faculties steadily deserting her. All charities are going through straitened times at the moment, of course, and all of them are in need of extra support, but I felt Alzheimer’s Research UK was particularly worth my time and effort.

FL: Each story in the book features a different incarnation of the Doctor. Tell us about yours.

PPH: As I’ve written him, the Robert Banks Stewart Doctor is a grumpy, ebullient name-dropper with quietly brilliant detective skills and a penchant for deniable meddling. So far, so quintessentially Doctorish, but this incarnation also has an unusual interest in magic and alchemy, a long-term mission on Earth, and an old nemesis demanding his attention.

FL: These Doctors only exist in a couple of photos. How did you approach the characterisation of your incarnation?

PPH: The photo of scriptwriter Robert Banks Stewart that appears onscreen in The Brain of Morbius has a grim look on his face, but there’s another where he seems to be having a lot more fun in the costume. I played with that contrast by making his Doctor a man of excessive, rather theatrical moods, curmudgeonly and charming by turns. With his fur collar, there’s something rather bearlike about him, which made me envisage as quite physically large.

I also love Paul Hanley’s artwork for the character, where he elaborates on the costume to portray this Doctor as a kind of renaissance alchemist – Paul says ‘I like the idea that this is the Doctor who was most interested in “magic”, psychic phenomena, etc.,’ and I certainly leaned into that.

Banks Stewart’s own persona comes through in the Doctor’s Scottish accent and in some of the story choices. Both the Doctor Who scripts he wrote are set in contemporary Britain, so this Doctor’s story is a ‘contemporary’ one – though the timeframe I was envisaging for these forgotten Doctors means that works out as the 1940s. Banks Stewart created the TV detective series Bergerac and Shoestring, and so this Doctor fancies himself as a detective. And he also wrote for The Avengers (and for the Doctor and Sarah rather as if they were appearing in The Avengers), so there’s a flavour of that in the action, the whimsy, and the relationship between the Doctor and his secretary, Miss Weston.

FL: What's your story about?

PPH: The Doctor is in early-1940s London, observing the geopolitical progress of World War II on behalf of the mysterious power he represents, when he’s distracted by a burglary carried out by men bearing a close resemblance to the comedy duo Laurel and Hardy. This brings him into conflict with a figure from his past, a sorcerer known as ‘the Magus’, who represents another cosmic faction with its own agenda.

FL: The stories are intended to represent a ‘prehistory’ of Doctor Who before 1963. How did that affect your approach?

PPH: Since the eight forgotten Doctors are supposedly the incarnations preceding Hartnell, it was part of the concept from the first that these stories would reconstruct – thematically and narratively, though not in terms of TV production values – Doctor Who as it ‘would have been’ in the 1940s, 50s and early 60s. In one sense that’s a very conservative approach, but it also highlights the ways in which Doctor Who in reality has been a product of its various times.

For my own story I drew on two mid-20th-century influences – Charles Williams, a friend of CS Lewis and JRR Tolkien, who before his death in 1945 wrote occult thrillers infused with his own very eccentric brand of Christianity; and the Basil Rathbone Sherlock Holmes films set during World War II. Between them they led me to this story of a magicianly Doctor doing detective work and getting involved with affairs of state during the Blitz, and to provide him with his very own sorcerous Moriarty.

FL: Who would be your ideal casting for a pre-Hartnell Doctor?

PPH: The other authors have given most of the good answers already – Margaret Rutherford, Alec Guinness, Waris Hussein or Verity Lambert, Peter Cushing – so I’ll say either Boris Karloff or a young Mary Morris, depending on taste.

FL: What other projects are you working on at present?

PPH: I’ve got a short story and a novel for Sherlock Holmes in the works; plus another Holmes novel partly written, with a more unusual premise, that I’m trying to persuade someone to publish. I’m editing the next batch of Black Archives, of course, and writing our book on the Jodie Whittaker story The Haunting of Villa Diodati, which is due out in December 2021. And I have further ideas for original novels that I really need to devote more of my time to. One of them’s got vampires in.

[chloe-gayzer]

all of them for mitali (and adora, if you're feeling ambitious owo)

okay this was a lot but i am NOT weak and answered them all for BOTH

Mitali:

1. Age, Birthday, Star Sign

She’s almost 33, born April 20th, 2005. She’s a Taurus.

2. Gender Identity

Cis woman!

3. Orientation and Relationship status (single, taken (by who?), crush (on who?))

Lesbian, eventually taken by another OC, Savannah Wright

4. Race and Ethnicity

Mixed; Scottish and Indian.

5. Height and Body type

5’7, fit af

6. Headcanon VA

Haven’t terribly considered anyone but…… Claudia Black, with like, a scottish accent, would be Good

7. Occupation

Captain of Security

8. Weapon of Choice(?)

Bow and shotgun, for more “distance”. But fuck she loves her knifes.

9. Hometown and current residence

Bo’ness, Scotland. Prosperity.

10. Do they have any markings, piercings or scars?

Probably has her fair share of scars (newest one being from that gd crocodile). No piercings to speak of. A tattoo on her back that’s a dahlia and a transvaal daisy. They were each of her mother’s favourites.

11. Do they have any notable features, like horns, tails, or so on?

Not really, ha. Maybe her hair? It’s really long.

12. Own any pets?

A dog and a pig! She loves both Timber and Horatio.

13. Have any kids?

She wants to.

14. Can they cook? Can they bake?

She can cook pretty well but she usually doesn’t have the time. Baking, she hasn’t really been able to try. Not in a long time, at least.

15. Can they sing? Can they dance?

She can sing! Pretty well too! One of her moms was heavy into music and taught her a couple instruments. During their time in the bunker, she was taught a whole lot of songs on guitar. Might know a few dances.

16. Can they drive?

Yup! Best driver in the business ha

17 Can they fight?

That’s her main talent ngl

18. Have any special keepsakes?

She’s got her mother’s wedding rings tucked away. She never lets them away from her.

19. Hobbies

Nothing actually firm. She likes to read and there are times she likes to play music, but it can be sort of bittersweet for her. Hunting maybe, but that’s another survival thing.

20. Clothing/Aesthetic

She likes button-ups and to layer a bit. Enjoys soft blues and deep reds.

21. Fave food(s) and drink(s)

She misses salt and vinegar chips so much. Pretty partial to cider-- not the alcoholic kind-- but it’s harder to get.

22. Fave Color

Purple

23. Fave Genre

Romance lol

24. Fave Season

Fall!

25. City or Country?

Country

26. Guilty Pleasure

Tbh??? Finding someone to fight just to get some anger out.

27. What’s their family like? Who’s in it? What’s their relationship with them?

She had two mothers until she was around 16. After they passed, family wise she was alone for a very long time. Now, the Ryes treat her as family and, at some point, Savannah would be her wife. She’s close with Kim and she’d never let anything happen to Carmina. She’s fast friends with Nick when they get him back-- she’s always glad to see a good man who has no issue being soft or saying “i love you”

28. Are they literate? Did they go to school? How long? What level?

She went to school up until shortly before the bombs fell, and her mothers did their best to teach what they could in the bunker.

29. What was childhood like?

The first 12 or so years were in Scotland. She was pretty healthy and well balanced. She enjoyed music, knew some instruments and got voice lessons. She was pretty athletic too, planning to do something military-centric when she was old enough. She and her mothers moved to the west coast of the states when she was twelve. It was maybe a year before the bombs fell.

30. What was adolescence like?

The first couple years were in the “bunker”, which was barely more than a multi-roomed basement shared between her and her mothers-- their neighbor, who’d offered them the shelter, didn’t make it in. He hadn’t been home when the bombs fell. The food ran out maybe two years in and she got to spend a year with her parents above ground before they were killed. The rest of her adolescence was spent mostly alone, living in a small shelter in the woods. She rarely had contact with people, only ever to trade. Once or twice she’d lead people out of the woods. It wasn’t until she was nineteen or so that she joined Rush.

31. What’s their current main conflict?

Loooooooooooots of self-hatred. Sure, there’s the whole highwaymen deal, but her hatred of herself makes it hard for her to make friends because she honestly doesn’t believe she deserves to have them.

32. What steps have they taken to overcome this conflict?

She doesn’t, really, until after that whole deal with Joseph and the apple and the bear. She of the mind it was just a drug trip, but it did make her think about who she is. Made her afraid she really had become something monstrous. After a breakdown and some help from Savannah, she actively tries to be a better, warmer person.

33. How have they changed over time?

Her trying to change helps her a lot. She goes from being pretty quiet, pretty grumpy, and antisocial, to being a happier, more open, but still pretty quiet woman. She teaches Carmina some songs on the guitar and plays more often for the people in Prosperity.

34. What’s their room look like right now?

I mean idk how the rooming situation is in Prosperity, but if she’s able to have a room that’s more private, she probably shares it with Savannah, after a point. Might have some plants and her guitar leaning in the corner. If it’s a shared room situation, she probably sticks to the bare minimum as to not take up too much space. Maybe a trunk under the bed with her clothes and a couple trinkets.

35. What are they like as a friend?

Literally if anything hurts you she will hunt it down. If she considers you a friend, she’ll make sure you know it.

36. What are they like as a partner?

Romantic partner, I’m assuming, she’s loving and protective, but often restrained. She doesn’t like to overstep boundaries.

37. Do they have any phobias?

Water. She can swim but fuck does she hate the feeling of something about to get her. Selene’s quest did not help that.

38. Did/do they go anywhere special for vacations?

Her parents took her to Disney once, but otherwise no.

39. Your character walks into a cafe. What do they order?

Raspberry hot chocolate.

40. What time do they go to bed, usually?

Whenever she’s done with the work for the day and has the chance to crash.

41. What’s their morning routine like?

Wake up → unbraid and brush hair → get dressed → find out what needs to be done for the day. Food if she remembers.

42. What’s the dumbest thing your character’s done?

Go after Selene’s weed bag and get attacked by a crocodile, what the fuck, we can find you more weed, we can’t casually find Mitali a new arm.

43. What pokemon would your character be?

OOOOOOhhhhhh this is my kind question, I need to go look at pokemon lists. Oh fuck I’m back, she’s a midnight form lycanroc for SURE. Looks sorta scary, is cuddly, has the ability to maim.

44. What’s their pokemon team? Try to pick all 6.

I love these questions holy crap. Midnight form lycanroc because DUH. Houndoom. Pignite. Gengar. Yamask. Zangoose.

45. Theme song (and a playlist if you’ve got it!)

Wolf by First Aid Kit.It’s not a whole playlist but also: She Said Maybe by Steam Powered Giraffe. Lion’s Roar, by First Aid Kit. Ghost by Mystery Skulls. Thistles by Mumford and Sons. For Those Below, also Mumford and Sons.

46. If this character was in a musical, what would their motif be (what kind of instruments do you hear, what’s the tempo, ect).

Oh this is pretty hard.... Violin-centric, maybe. And the tempo would be different depending on which point of her life. A lively one for early life, a mournful one for like…. 16-32. Happier again after that.

47. What was this character’s biggest turning point in their life, something that changed them almost completely?

Her mothers dying for sure! She went from being a hopeful young woman to almost spiteful. Killing the men who killed her parents was what sealed the deal.

48. What was their lowest point? What was their highest point?

Yup parent death is still gonna be lowest point. It was sudden and painful and no one involved deserved it. Highest point is when she finally breaks free of that depression and realizes she doesn’t have to hate herself anymore.

49. What are some themes tied to your character’s story?

Forgiveness, redemption, hope.

50. What are some motifs associated with your character?

Wild animals (mostly wolves), death and rebirth.

51. What were some inspirations for your character (people, movies, games)?

Big surprise but….. Mitali was definitely inspired in equal parts by Chloe Frazer and Nadine Ross (so Lost Legacy, in a nutshell). Also some great wolf related aesthetic pictures.

52. How are you and your character the same? How are you different?

Well this is an unexpectedly deep question that I’m going to avoid due to my own self-worth lol

53. Expectations vs Reality: what did you expect and what did you get with this character?

I expected to have her be very heavily military, but I ended up with a woman who only really wants to be a wife and just love the woman she marries with all of her heart and she wants to raise a kid and just have a good and happy family.

54. What does your character want, and what do they need?

She doesn’t know what she wants but she needs love. Any kind. Platonic, romantic, whichever.

55. What’s your character’s core trait? What’s their best trait? What’s their worst trait? What happens when these all interact with each other?

Protective to a fault. It can be both their best and worst trait, but their real worst trait is her self-hate. The two things interacting usually lead her to cutting herself off from friends so they’re “better off without her”.

56. What’s your overall goal with this character? Will they get a happy ending or will they succumb to their faults?

FUCK I want her to have a happy ending so badly. I’ll have to see how New Dawn ends first, but end goal is her marrying Savannah and eventually having a kid or two. Maybe twins???

Adora!!!

1. Age, Birthday, Star Sign

23, October 22nd 1994, Libra

2. Gender Identity

Cis woman

3. Orientation and Relationship status (single, taken (by who?), crush (on who?))

Lesbian and taken by Jess as soon as she possibly can be

4. Race and Ethnicity

Mixed, Brazilian and South African

5. Height and Body type

Lil bit on the shorter end maybe 5’4, and she's got a swimmer bod for SURE

6. Headcanon VA

Don't have one yet

7. Occupation

Deputy to Sheriff Whitehorse

8. Answered previously!

9. Hometown and current residence

Cascade Valley, Hope County

10. Previously answered!

11. Do they have any notable features, like horns, tails, or so on?

Her hair is big and curly, lovely afro. Other than that, maybe her newly given WRATH scar

12. Own any pets?

She left her pet cat with her dads when she moved, but now she's got a cougar, a dog, and a bear. Peaches is her favourite.

13. Have any kids?

in the future, she has a daughter named Masha!

14. Can they cook? Can they bake?

She's not the best cook, but she can bake pretty well.

15. Can they sing? Can they dance?

She's not a great singer but she dances well!

16. Can they drive?

Yup!

17. Can they fight?

She's really scrappy, and a pretty big threat tbh

18. Have any special keepsakes?

Her dads gave her a star of david necklace before she left. she never takes it off.

19. Hobbies

She loves to fish!

20. Previously answered!

21. Fave food(s) and drink(s)

She's 100% here for pumpkin pie and loves pink lemonade

22. Fave Color

Gold!

23. Fave Genre

Rom coms

24. Fave Season

Fall!

25. City or Country?

Depends on the day, leans towards country.

26. Guilty Pleasure

Taking a break to fish when she should be doing something else. Also taking her hearing aids out when she doesn't want to listen to someone.

27. What’s their family like? Who’s in it? What’s their relationship with them?

She's got two dads! They're an older couple who are very loving. One is deaf. Recently I gave her a brother named Adam! He’s a cool dude. Bi and lovable.

28. Are they literate? Did they go to school? How long? What level?

She finished school up to get her degree! Finished at 22

29. Previously answered!

30. What was adolescence like?

She went through a lot of emotional issues during her teens, but her dads got her in therapy and were supportive and loving. A lot of who she is today comes from the love she got then.

31. What’s their current main conflict?

Joseph fucking Seed decided to mess around in lives he should've left alone and now she's gotta clean up after him and try to protect her new friends.

32. What steps have they taken to overcome this conflict?

In the words of the lego movie: “shoot shoot shoot bullet bullet gun”

33. How have they changed over time?

Probably the biggest change was early teens to late. She was angry and spiteful and pretty depressed.

34. What’s their room look like right now?

Her room at home is covered in posters. But her room during 5 is… a bunker she found and claimed. She keeps it stocked, managed to put up a lesbian flag, and brought in the comfiest pillows and blankets she could.

35. Previously answered!

36. What are they like as a partner?

Over affectionate to the max, both with romantic partners and her work partner Hudson. A bit protective. Jealous when it comes to romantic partners.

37. Do they have any phobias?

Most boil down to the death of loved ones

38. Did/do they go anywhere special for vacations?

She used to get to pick a vacation spot once a summer when she grew up. Had to be reasonable, but she got to go to some great campgrounds, a couple good concerts, and Mammoth caves

39. Your character walks into a cafe. What do they order?

A white tea and cookies

40. What time do they go to bed, usually?

Depends on the day.

41. What’s their morning routine like?

Wake up → try to sleep longer → eventually be convinced out of bed (either by herself or by Jess) → try to manage her hair if she didn't braid it → give up on that and wash face → get dressed → eat → start day

42. What’s the dumbest thing your character’s done?

“I won't get hurt jumping from that height”

43. What pokemon would your character be?

Whisicott! But shiny

44. What’s their pokemon team? Try to pick all 6.

I seriously love these questions. Whimsicott! Of course! And a sylveon. Gardevoir. Shinx. Rapidash. And Cinccino!! She’s fairy-centric.

45. Theme song (and a playlist if you’ve got it!)

Dance Apocolyptic by Janelle Monae.

46. If this character was in a musical, what would their motif be (what kind of instruments do you hear, what’s the tempo, ect).

Hmmm… Piano. Something upbeat, most of the time.

47. What was this character’s biggest turning point in their life, something that changed them almost completely?

Therapy in her early teens. It helped her cope with the fact she suffered under her birth parents and realize she’s worth so much more than they tries to make her feel

48. What was their lowest point? What was their highest point?

It’s still gonna be centered in her abuse, but it could also be the grudge she holds on the Seed family (minus Faith). Highest point is probably something to do with Jess.

49. What are some themes tied to your character’s story?

Healing, unconditional love, leadership.

50. What are some motifs associated with your character?

Water, guilt, death, freedom

51. What were some inspirations for your character (people, movies, games)?

Adora is named after She-ra! Her brother too. Physically, I’m not sure. Mmmmaybe a little Nadine Ross, but even then, their hair is really the main similarity, and even then Adora’s is more afro than Nadine’s

52. How are you and your character the same? How are you different?

We’re about the same age? We both love Jess Black. That might be where the similarities end.

53. Expectations vs Reality: what did you expect and what did you get with this character?

I expected to have a gal who was nursing a crush on her partner in the force but instead i have a gal who’s a hundred percent in love with an archer she found locked in a cage by religious zealots.

54. What does your character want, and what do they need?

She wants some goddamn rest and the ability to go on a proper date with her girlfriend. She wants to see her dads again. She wants to be certain she won’t wake up and find herself kidnapped again.

55. What’s your character’s core trait? What’s their best trait? What’s their worst trait? What happens when these all interact with each other?

Is “sunshine” a trait? She’s a happy sort of person and likes to show it. Smiles a whole lot. Best trait is her willingness to trust. Worst trait… she can hold a grudge. For a LONG time. Holding a grudge can keep her from mending bridges, so it doesn’t act terribly well with happy & trusting. And when it does, she’s happy to hold a grudge lol.

56. What’s your overall goal with this character? Will they get a happy ending or will they succumb to their faults?

My goal is her to eventually have a happy life. She gets her “happy ending” in the shape of being with Jess until the day she dies, and even taking in a little girl to raise. She passes away in her sleep a long way down the line.

[bleep-blop-lizard-hop]

Jenny/Vastra Modern Coffee Shop AU

Jenny is a college graduate working in a London cafe in order to make enough money for rent until she can find a real job.

Vastra will be human in this universe.

Vastra had moved down to London from Scotland to train as a rookie cop just like her sisters did before her.

Vastra is a known regular at the coffee shop who would come in every morning before work, every afternoon for such with her co-workers, and every evening before heading home.

The first time that Jenny saw Vastra come in was during a drizzly autumn morning. Vastra wore a long gray trench coat over her police uniform, a woolen plaid scarf around her neck and black leather gloves to keep her hands warm. Short bobbed, slightly wavy brow hair framed a uniquely attractive face, complete with a well-sculpted jawline and stunningly bright blue eyes.(I tend to imagine human Vastra looking rather similar to Neve McIntosh, the lovely actress who played her in the show)

Vastra approached the counter where Jenny stood and ordered her usual black coffee with three shots of expresso and only a modest amount of sugar. Jenny was so mesmerized by Vastra’s beauty and charming Scottish accent that she misheard her name, accidentally spelling it wrong on the cup. Jenny became even more flustered when she realized her mistake and tried to apologize, despite Vastra insisting that it’s OK. Jenny still felt bad, so she gave her a free muffin on the house for extra good measure.

An electric spark occurred where their hands touched briefly on the coffee cup, but neither of them was willing to acknowledge it.

Meanwhile, Jenny’s co-worker, Bill, was watching the whole spectacle from the back storage room with great intrigue.

After that day, Vastra started going out of her way to come into the shop earlier each morning just to see Jenny. Though initially surprised by all the attention that she was receiving from Vastra, Jenny enjoyed her company nonetheless, perhaps a little too much than she would admit. They both liked talking to each other and spending time together, which served to increase their mutual attraction.

Jenny eventually grew bolder and would put in the extra effort to create artistic pictures in Vastra’s coffee using syrup and cream.

That often made Vastra the target of relentless teasing from her fellow officers, Martha, Clara, Donna, Amy, and River, who would eat lunch with her in the cafe. Jenny also has to deal with Bill’s cheeky comments about what an utterly lovestruck fool she is and that she should just bleeding ask her out already, for Sappho’s sake.

A month passed before it was Vastra who finally made the first move. Jenny came into the shop one morning to find a large bouquet of her favorite flowers waiting there on the counter, including violets, roses, and lilies. Inside the bouquet is a card signed by Vastra, asking her on a date and Jenny’s face instantly lit up as she read it. Bill tried to act coy when questioned about her, but Jenny knew that it was her who unlocked the door for Vastra to get in and leave those flowers.

Their first date consisted of going to see a play at the local theatre, then taking a stroll in the park where Vastra offered a shivering Jenny her coat, and they shared a kiss under the moonlight that was pure magic.

Afterward, they decided to stop by the cafe and get some coffee, but instead stumbled upon a robbery in progress. The lone masked suspect grabbed a terrified Bill and held her hostage at gunpoint when the two of them walked in, prompting Vastra to keep Jenny behind her as she handled the situation herself. Bill bit hard into the assailant’s hand and stomped on his foot, before she was able to slip out of his grasp, giving Vastra the perfect opportunity to tackle him, disarm him, and install handcuffs so that he doesn’t pose a threat ever again. Once the fear induced shock and adrenaline had worn off, Jenny came to the conclusion that this was easily the greatest date EVER.

Jenny and Vastra’s relationship continued to progress smoothly from there, leading Jenny to move into Vastra’s home within a few weeks.

Jenny soon grows fond of Vastra’s pet cat, Earl Grey, and would always bring home treats for him.

Jenny waiting for Vastra to come home from late night shifts at Scotland Yard so that they could drink tea and eat pastries together while snuggling on the couch, watching tv until they fall asleep in each other’s arms.

Vastra telling Jenny about her work during the day, especially if something majorly positive happened like finding a missing child, busting an illegal drug deal, or simply giving directions to some lost French tourists. Jenny was quite pleased indeed to learn that Vastra could speak both French and Japanese fluently.

Vastra was aware that Jenny didn’t want to work in a coffee shop forever, of course, and is super supportive of her aspirations to become a professional photographer for a major national magazine publisher someday.

Jenny and Vastra being huge Sci-Fi-fi geeks together.

Vastra escorting Jenny to work every morning where they would kiss before parting ways, and Jenny never hearing the end of it from Bill.

However, she did caught the two of them engaged in a heavily heated make out session in the back storage room on one particular occasion. 

Jenny pecking Vastra’s cheek while serving her order, which invoked even more teasing from her friends as Vastra merely smiled like a lovestruck idiot.

Vastra playfully patting Jenny’s buttocks whenever she walks by, earning her a semi-stern glare from Jenny.

Vastra occasionally picking Jenny up in a police car to take her home, which never fails to excite Jenny.

Vastra bringing Jenny to the police target practice room and teaching Jenny how to shoot a gun.

Vastra teaching Jenny some martial arts and self-defense techniques in case she ever needs it.

River making a sexual innuendo to Jenny regarding Vastra’s handcuffs and the two of them laughing when Vastra blushes bright red.

Vastra showing Jenny her prized set of genuine Japanese katana swords and Jenny is absolutely fascinated by them.

During the weekends, Jenny and Vastra would hang out with friends at the pub before they all go dancing in a club. After having several drinks to loosen up, Jenny and Vastra would sing karaoke duets while visibly tipsy. In every single universe no matter what, Vastra has a habit of flirting with anyone she finds remotely attractive until Jenny pulls her in close and reminds her she belongs to with a furiously possessive kiss. They’re both the passionately jealous type, that’s a fact.

Jenny hanging up a rainbow LGBTQ+ FLAG on top of the cafe for Pride month and any bigot who is offended can just fuck off.

Jenny admiring and polishing Vastra’s police badge for her.

Firefighters were called to their house once because Vastra was trying to cook a meal for their anniversary, with disastrous results.

Vastra giving Jenny an expensive camera and rare memorabilia from her favorite Sci-Fi show on her birthday.

Vastra stealing a piece of pastry when she thinks Jenny isn't looking, which results in her being forcefully shooed out of the shop.

An overprotective Vastra making herself appear more tough and intimidating whenever she sees rude men bothering Jenny, whether it be at the cafe or in the streets.

Jenny and Vastra going on romantic open carriage rides throughout the city.

Jenny and Vastra dancing and playing in the rain together as if they’re five years old again.

Vastra boasting about her strong immune system and is grumpy when she does become sick, requiring her to stay home in bed for a few weeks. She soon realized that being sick wasn't so bad after all, since Jenny would feed her soup, and snuggle with her, and take good care of her. It was in those little moments that Vastra thought Jenny is way too good to her.

Vastra is obligated to keep her body as physically fit as possibly in her line of work. That proved to be somewhat of a problem for Jenny, who can barely function normally around Vastra when she’s exercising, due to her exposed lean muscles and perfectly chiseled abs.

Vastra bringing Jenny along to visit her family in Scotland for the holidays. Vastra’s family, consisting of her parents as well as six older sisters, might seem intimidatingly rough and rustic at first glance, but they’re actually the sweetest, most kindhearted people once you get to know them. They were very supportive of their relationship and really welcomed Jenny with open arms, much to Vastra’s delight. The only downside was that her family would not stop embarrassing her by showing Jenny her old baby pictures, telling stories about things she’d rather forget, constantly asking when they’re going to get married, and not to mention when Vastra’s father was marching around in a kilt while playing the bagpipes at fucking five in the morning. Jenny, on the other hand, had a lot of fun spending time with Vastra’s family and appreciated their strong sense of Scottish pride.

Before they left Scotland, Vastra consulted her parents in private about her decision to marry Jenny. Vastra’s parents were happy seeing how she have found the love of her life in Jenny, granting the couple their blessing and giving Vastra a precious family heirloom ring to take home.

Unfortunately, Vastra as a police officer believed that it was her duty to serve the city regardless of the risks to her own life, and her stubborn self-sacrificing streak was a main source of friction in their relationship. Jenny and Vastra have their disagreements like any other couple, but it was one bad argument in particular that caused Jenny to leave and seek temporary refuge at Bill’s place.

Vastra and her patrol partner, Jenny(the blonde one) are the first on scene respondents when a call is sent out about the robbery of a jewelry store. They were pursuing the suspects in a high speed chase when they were struck by some kind of explosive bomb, throwing them off course until they crashed and setting their vehicle ablaze.

An undetermined amount of time passed before Vastra woke up in a hospital room to be greeted by the heartwarming sight of her parents and sisters who all came down after hearing about the accident. They were extremely relieved to know that Vastra would be alright despite her injuries, but none more so than Jenny, whose tears were flowing freely down her face as in her hand she held the ring that Vastra was planning to propose with. Jenny immeditately threw herself into Vastra’s arms and proceeded to smother her face with kisses while repeatedly proclaiming, “Yes...Yes...Yes!”

Vastra’s partner also survived, in case you’re wondering.

Vastra eventually recovered, they got married, and lived happily ever after.

[symbianosgames]

Games Have Too Many Words: A Case Study.

The following blog post, unless otherwise noted, was written by a member of Gamasutra’s community. The thoughts and opinions expressed are those of the writer and not Gamasutra or its parent company.

In this chapter, I unwisely critique the work of my betters.

I recently wrote an article about how video games have too many words. We designers don't properly edit our writing to make sure our words are worth a player’s time reading them.

I want to do a case study where I go through a wordy game, step-by-step, and show what it's doing right and wrong and how it could be doing better. Most game criticism frustrates me. It tends to deal with generalities and floaty ideas, instead of dirtying its hands with specifics that could actually help make for better games. This is my chance to egotistically provide a different approach.

This breakdown will be long and gritty, but I'll try to include a lot of solid pointers. I'll throw in some jokes along the way.

The Subject

Let's look at the very beginning of Pillars of Eternity, developed by Obsidian and released in 2015. This game was a huge hit, critically and financially, taking advantage of a shortage of quality Baldur's Gate-style, gritty, isometric-view, story-heavy titles.

I really wanted a game like that, so I bought it. I finished it in a little over 20 hours. The combat was fine, though really chaotic and hard to follow. (The best description I read was "clusterf***y".) The story was OK, but the game is loaded with words, many of them written by Kickstarter backers. I ended up getting through all the conversations in the back third of the game by typing the '1' key as fast as I could.

I did play Pillars until the end, which is rare for me. Overall, it was pretty good. It made a lot of money, and the crowdfunding for the sequel is doing quite well.

I don't usually like being negative about the work of other sincere, industrious creators. Luckily this game got enough cash and acclaim that its creators can comfortably ignore the nattering of a non-entity like me.

This is how I picture the devs of Pillars of Eternity. They walk everywhere with big clip art watermarks floating over their chests.

"So What's Your Complaint?"

Too many words.

Pillars of Eternity wants to have a really elaborate world and story, which is fine. It wants to have a creative game system, with new, innovative sorts of character classes and spells, which is great.

However, it doesn't do a good job of communicating stuff to the player, because there's no editing and care in giving out information. The game just floods the player with text, important bits buried in gushes of irrelevant detail, practically training the player to think that the words aren't really important. (Again, I played a huge chunk of the game without reading anything but the quest log.)

To illustrate this, I'm going to go, step by step, through the introduction and character creation, the stuff anyone who tries the game is sure to see. Let's see what the game thinks is worth the player's time and how good a job it does splitting up vital knowledge from static.

"So What? You're Just Scared of Words, You Sub-Literate?"

No, I have a problem with the pacing. The human brain can only absorb so many random facts about game systems and lore at one sitting. This stuff needs to be carefully paced out, or it'll just slide off of the brain.

But character creation in this game floods the player with tons of facts, both about the game and the world. I came out of it feeling numb and confused, and almost none of it stuck.

So. You start the game. You pick your difficulty. And then you begin the eleven (!!!) steps of character creation.

I. Introduction.

A pretty graphic and some basic text saying what is going on (you're on a caravan going to some fantasy town, you feel sick), read by an old guy. About 140 words. It's fine.

II. Pick Your Sex

And now the troubles begin. You need to choose whether you are male or female. Here's a description:

Describing the sexes is about 160 words total. But look, it mentions a bunch of different countries. Let's mouse over one of them and see what their deal is.

Yikes! That's a lot of words. All the descriptions together are about 330 words, much of it references to random game locations the player has no knowledge of. "Ein Glanfath" "Dyrwood" "Glanfathan" "Ixamitl" "Naasitaq" How can anyone get anything coherent from this tangle? This is literally the second thing the game shows you.

Seriously, try this: Read the description of "Eir Glanfath" above. Then close your eyes and count to ten. Then say everything you recall about Eir Glanfath. I'll bet you retained very little. And that's setting aside whether this stuff is actually necessary to play the game. (Not really.)

And, worse, it's all irrelevant to the actual choice the player has to make, because the vast majority of players will know whether they want to play a man or a woman before they even launch the game. If a woman only ever plays female characters, telling her, "The men of the Derpaderp Tribe of Sirius XII are in charge of all of their basket-weaving!" isn't going to turn her head around.

My Friendly Suggestion - Go through all these random facts and see if there are one or two of them the player MUST know. Pluck them out and put them in the Introduction. Cram the rest of the lore in books the player finds in the game world. Then make Male/Female be a toggle in the next screen.

III. Pick Your Race

OK, we're into solid fantasy RPG territory now. Here are six races to choose from:

You've never heard of three of the races. This is good. Pillars's desire to create new, weird things is one of its good points. Each race has about fifty words of description:

Now, this is a description of a "dwarf." But, if you have even the slightest familiarity with fantasy, you know what we're talking about here: Standard-issue, Tolkein dwarves. Short. Stocky. Like digging holes, gold, and ale. Grumpy. Scottish accents. We get it. All you need to say here is, "Strong, durable, great warriors."

For each of the races, the description mainly says the lands they live in. Let's be clear. This is useless information. If I tell you dwarves come from New Jersey, whether or not you've heard of New Jersey, this tells you nothing about whether you want to be a dwarf in your adolescent power fantasy.

It's a total cliche to say, "Show, Don't Tell," but this is a PERFECT example of why this is a key concept in writing. If I say, "Dwarves come from New Jersey," and you've never even heard of New Jersey (or dwarves), you won't care. But if you go to New Jersey, look around, and see nothing but dwarves, you'll instantly be all, "Oh, I get it! I'm in Dwarfland!"

But it gets trickier. This is the first choice you make that has actual impact on the gameplay. There are six statistics in the game, and your race affects what you start with. Each statistic description is 50 more words. Let's take a look at one:

What "Might" means is important information. The player needs this. This text needs to be punchy and clear. Something like, "Improves damage from all attacks. Gives a bonus when healing. Helps intimidate people in conversation."

And this description does that, but messily and with lots of extra words. Pillars tries to do a lot of things differently from other RPGs, so it needs to be extra-clear about the surprising stuff. Having the strength skill also improve spells and healing is neat, but it's also really unusual. ("Dwarves are better wizards? Wut!?")

My Friendly Suggestion - Editing pass. Shorter and clearer. Ask, "Why does the player need to know this?" If you don't have a good answer, save this lore for much later.

IV. Pick your Sub-Race

This is where the seriously over-designed quality of Pillars starts to show up. Picking a race isn't enough. You have to pick your sub-race:

So about 160 words (not counting rollover text), to learn about the woods dwarves and the mountain dwarves:

None of this lore has anything to do with the actual game.

What bugs me here is that this choice has gameplay significance. One choice gives you resistance to Poison and Disease (though you have no idea how serious these conditions are or how often they appear in the game), and one gives you a bonus against "Wilder" and "Primordial" creatures (though you have no idea what on Earth those are, let alone how often they show up in the game).

Giving a player seemingly high-impact decisions with no ability to tell which one is correct is stressful and confusing.

My Friendly Suggestion - Ditch sub-races. Instead, give Dwarves BOTH of these bonuses. This creates more distinction between the races and getting multiple bonuses helps the player feel more powerful instead of confused and stressed.

"Cutting Out Lore? What Is Your Problem With Lore In Games, You Jerk?"

Lore in games is great, as long is it's not thrown at the player too quickly and without any gameplay context that makes it mean something.

If you love lore, I want you to get lore, but in a way that spares the people who find huge dumps of it grueling. There are ways to make everyone happy!

Anyway, let's keep going. There's a LOT more screens to go.

V. Pick Your Class

Hokay! At last, this is the big one! This makes a huge difference in your play experience. Here are your eleven choices:

One of the coolest things about Pillars is that they tried to make some weird classes unlike anything in other games. The cost of creativity, however, is that you have to be extra-careful when explaining to the player the weird stuff they've never seen before.

When I started the game, my eyes were instantly drawn to "Cipher". That sounds neat! And here is the description ...

Yikes.

The main description of the class is four long sentences, but only the second sentence actually says much about what the class does. Then a very vague description of the powers, which involve something vitally important called a "Soul Whip," with no explanation of what that actually is. Then a bunch of algebra.

That's about 120 words, for one class. You have to go through all of it to get a vague idea of how the class plays. The other ten class descriptions are comparably complex.

This is just too much stuff to muck through, too early, for a choice so important to the play experience. Bear in mind that we are still less than halfway to actually playing a game.

My Friendly Suggestion - For each class, only show the stat bonuses and two or three carefully written sentences describing what it's like. Move all the weird lore and mathematical formulae to a different tab that can be opened by those who care. When the player starts using the class in the game, bring up some tutorial windows saying the key details of how to actually use it, like what a "Soul Whip" is.

VI. Pick Your Class Details.

If you're a priest, you have to pick your god. If you're a caster, you have to select a spell or two from the starting list. For the Cipher, the list looks like this ...

The spell descriptions look like this ...

Again, a ton of reading, referring to statistics, distances, statuses, damage amounts, damage types, etc. that mean nothing because you've never actually played the game.

My Friendly Suggestion - Lose this screen entirely. Pick one basic, useful ability (the best one) and give it to the character automatically to get through the tutorial. Then, after the first bunch of fights, have the player meet a trainer and be able to choose new abilities in an informed way.

VII. Edit Your Character Attributes.

Figure out how many points of Strength, Constitution, etc. you have. The game, to its credit, says which ones are most important for your class. Standard RPG fare.

VIII. Pick Your Culture

IF YOU'RE JUST SPEED-SCROLLING THROUGH THIS ARTICLE, STOP HERE AND READ THIS!!!!

Yeah, I know you aren't reading all of this. This post is wayyyyy too long and gritty and nit-picky and tedious. But reading this article takes much less time than actually picking through all of these windows in the game. Which is too long. That is my main point. Now scroll to the end and call me an idiot in comments.

Anyway, yeah, pick some country you're from ...

Each of the 7 contures has about 70 words of description.

None of this has anything to do with playing the game.

This is the most unnecessary step in the whole process. When making an RPG character, you need to build two things: Its stats/abilities and its personality.

Knowing your character is from "The White that Wends" tells you nothing about its abilities, and it's a lousy way to determine his or her personality. If you read the description of "The White that Wends," and learn that people from there are mean and selfish, that's still not the way you want to player to create a mean, selfish character. You do that by giving play options in the game that are mean and selfish and letting the player pick them. Show, don't tell.

My Friendly Suggestion - Lose it entirely.

IX. Pick Your Background.

Choose from one of nine backgrounds.

The main thing this affects is that, every once in a while, it will open up a new dialogue option. This never makes a big difference.

My Friendly Suggestion - There's a real lost opportunity here. Once again, "Show, Don't Tell." Instead of having me declare that my character is a Slave or Aristocrat or whatever, why not, once you’re in the game, make every conversation option for all of these different nine backgrounds available to me when the game starts.

Then, if I keep making the "Aristocrat" pick, start removing the other options, so that I end up always talking like an Aristocrat. Then my character's personality emerges organically from the sort of dialogue choices I make in the actual game.

X. Choose Appearance and Voice.

Standard appearance editor and list of different voices. It's fine.

XI. Choose Your Name.

Gladly.

XII. The Game.

And, finally, the games starts with the tutorial. Which begins with a long conversation. Which I barely pay attention to, because my stupid brain is tired.

It's all way too much. Too many words, too many irrelevant choices, exhausting when it should be informative. Not that they will listen to me, but it might be an improvement to look for in Pillars of Eternity 2, because the market is not what it was in 2015.

"But Who Cares? The Game Was a Hit, Right?"

The real test of how good a game it is, is not how it sells, but how much its sequel sells. And it is entirely fair to ask what business a pissant like me has criticizing a hit game written by a bunch of big names.

Let's leave behind the idea of craftsmanship and a desire to always keep improving our work.

Lately, sequels to hit RPGs have been selling far worse than their predecessors. Obsidian's successor to Pillars, Tyranny, by their own words, underperformed.

Also, I looked at the Steam achievement statistics for Pillars of Eternity. According to those, fewer than half of players finished the first chapter. Only about 10% of players completed the game.

Now granted, this is not unusual. Most games remain unfinished. But that still invites this question: If the vast majority of players didn't want to experience the Pillars of Eternity they already paid for, why think that they will want to buy more?

Everyone should keep improving, if just for their survival in this mercilessly competitive business.

Video games are a new art form, and there is still so much we have to figure out. That's the terrifying and awesome thing about making them. And now, having already written way too many words, I will take my own advice and cease.

###

The author sells his own flawed, wordy, old-school RPGs at Spiderweb Software. He opines on Twitter.

[mavwrekmarketing]

Image copyright Hampshire Archives

Image caption Mary Clarke Mohl by Hilary Bonham Carter

It was the place to be in 19th Century Paris – the city’s most successful political and literary salon, where the great and good of French society would gather. And it was run by a remarkable Englishwoman.

For 250 years Paris was renowned for its literary and political salons, and for the fashionable women – the salonnieres – who guided discussion among the eminent figures of the age.

In much of the 19th Century, one of the most influential of the salons was held at 120 Rue du Bac in the Saint-Germain district. Here gathered writers and thinkers like Victor Hugo and Alexis de Toqueville, politicians like the Adolphe Thiers, the future president, painters like Eugene Delacroix, historians, orientalists, economists.

And presiding over them all was an Englishwoman.

Clarkey was her nickname. Madame de Mohl became her formal title. Mary Clarke was how she was born in 1793 in London.

Over the next 90 years, Mary Clarke Mohl lived an extraordinary life at the crossroads of French and British culture and society. Nearly all of it was spent in Paris, where she saw three revolutions and was on friendly terms with so many of the great names of the day.

But she never lost her attachment to Britain and in the Rue du Bac she offered a home-from-home to William Thackeray and Elizabeth Gaskell, the Brownings and the Trollopes, as well as to many aristocrats, diplomats and politicians. She was also one of Florence Nightingale’s closest friends and provided vital encouragement to launch her career in nursing.

Image caption Sketch of Mary Clarke Mohl by Hilary Bonham Carter (copyright Hampshire Archives)

Much of what we know of Clarkey comes from other people’s memoirs in English and French. But she also wrote hundreds of letters, many to her husband, the German orientalist Julius Mohl, and these were collected and published after her death.

She had an unusual start in life, one which goes a long way to explaining the unconventional course it was subsequently to take. At the age of eight she left for France in the sole company of her mother and grandmother, and apart from annual trips she never lived in England again.

Both her guardians were strong and independent-minded women. Her Scottish grandmother had hobnobbed with thinkers like David Hume and Adam Smith in Edinburgh and before the French Revolution lived in Dunkirk. Mary’s mother Elizabeth was a progressive free thinker.

Later, when they lived through the July 1830 uprising in Paris, Mary remembered scrambling through the barricades to get back home.

“Mama said: ‘Tell me the news, for Heaven’s sake – I have been quaking in my shoes.’ I said, ‘But I told you I would take care.’ ‘Oh,’ she said, ‘It was not you I was worried about; it was the common people!'”

Living in Paris under the restored Bourbon monarchy after 1815, Mary Clarke came to know Juliette Recamier, who was the great salonniere of the time (we know her through her famous painting by Jacques-Louis David). Through her, she met literary greats such as Stendhal, Hugo, Prosper Merimee and Chateaubriand. Chateaubriand – author of Memoirs from Beyond the Grave – was by now a grumpy old man, but he cheered up when entertained by “la jeune anglaise”.

Image copyright Alamy

Image caption Portrait of Madame Recamier by Jacques-Louis David

But by 1838, Recamier’s rule was coming to an end. So Clarke – still with her mother – moved into the third floor apartment at 120 Rue du Bac (above Chateaubriand) and set about the task of becoming her successor.

Seen from the distance of 150 years, Clarkey comes across as the most splendidly original and sympathetic of characters.

Appearance was a clue to her very British eccentricity. She was small with a turned-up button nose and a mass of frizzy curls. The future prime minister Francois Guizot used to say that “Madame Mohl and my little Scotch terrier have the same coiffeur”.

In a description given by Henry James, “Mme Mohl used to drop out of an omnibus, often into a mud-puddle, at our door, and delight us with her originality and freshness. I can see her now, just arrived, her feet on the fender before the fire, her hair flying, and her general untidiness so marked as to be picturesque.”

Her at-homes were on Friday evenings and Wednesday afternoons. Guests were welcomed into two adjoining drawing-rooms filled with sofas and arm-chairs, with two windows looking out over gardens that belonged to the Catholic Church’s Foreign Missions, as they still do today.

The rules were simple. According to Kathleen O’Meara, a contemporary memoirist and Paris correspondent for The Tablet: “You were expected to contribute to the general fund either by talking or listening, but you must not be bored.

Image copyright Hampshire Archives

Image caption Sketch of Mary Clarke Mohl’s salon by Hilary Bonham Carter

“You were not allowed to sit staring at the company through an eyeglass; anyone who offended in this way was pounced upon at once Another unpardonable offence was making tete-a-tetes in corners or chatting about the room in duets or trios when conversation, real conversation was going on.”

No opinions were barred – save, from 1850 to 1870, any mention of support for the emperor Napoleon III. Madame Mohl abhorred the man, referring to him contemptuously as “celui-ci” (this one) with a thumb jabbed back over her shoulder. She far preferred the bourgeois domesticity of the previous King Louis-Philippe, who was ousted in 1848.

Mary Clarke Mohl saw herself as standing in a long line of great French women, starting with Madame de Rambouillet in the early 17th Century, who had wielded their intellect and charm in the service of culture, politics and reason. Often she drew comparisons with the fate of women in the UK, who she felt sorely lacked the freedom offered in France.

In a letter written in 1862 she laments how in England, “The men talk together; the lady of the house may be addressed once in a way as duty, but the men had all rather talk together and she is pretty mute They have no notion that a lady’s conversation is better than a man’s.”

Her own conversation – according to the memoirist Mary Simpson – was “spontaneous, full of fun, information and grace of expression. She spoke French and English with the fluency and accent of a native, yet with the care and originality of a foreigner. And when there was no word in either language to fit her thoughts, she would coin one for the occasion”.

She could also be alarmingly rude – especially about women who she thought were failing to exercise their brains correctly. According to O’Meara: “It was a source of genuine astonishment to her that women were so addicted to idle gossip. ‘Why don’t they use their brains?’, she would ask angrily.”

Indeed, as a young girl Clarkey had been told by her grandmother that she was “as impudent as a highwayman’s horse” – apparently a reference to the way highwaymen’s horses would stick their heads into carriages as the hapless victims surrendered their purses.

Image copyright Getty Images

Image caption Paris circa 1860

Though to call her feminist would be inaccurate, she was one of a generation that laid the ground for the changes that followed in women’s lives. From their letters, we know that she was a rock-like figure for Florence Nightingale, persuading her to stick with her vocation despite the horrified opposition of Florence’s family. On her way to Crimea in 1854, Florence came via Paris where Mohl helped with her arrangements.

Clarkey lived so long she spanned the ages. Born in the aftermath of Revolution, she died almost in the modern era. As a young women she had been in love with the handsome historian Claude Fauriel, but that came to nothing, so in 1847 she married the charmingly donnish Julius Mohl, who was seven years her junior.

Anthony Trollope’s brother Thomas described Monsieur Mohl as so absolutely surrounded by books “built up into walls around him, as to suggest almost inevitably the idea of a mouse in a cheese, eating out the hollow it lives in”. But the couple were devoted to each other, and when he died in 1876 Mary was said to be like “a lost dog going about searching for its master”.

Seven years later, Clarkey herself died and was buried next to him in the Pere Lachaise cemetery.

Image caption Julius and Mary Clarke Mohl’s grave

“Where she entered, dullness and ennui fled,” said another memoirist, Grace Anne Prestwich, in an article written after her death.

Conversation, said Madame Mohl, was not the same as talk. The English talked, but the French knew that conversation was “the mingling of mind and mind (and) the most complete exercise of the social faculty”.

“Society is a necessity to me,” she said on another occasion. “We all depend dreadfully on each other. We live in a world of looking-glasses, and it is the mind – not the face – which is given back to us by the reflexions.”

Mary Clarke Mohl mixed English and French customs in a way that few have done before or since. She was entertaining, provocative, unpretentious, rude, generous and loving. She saw no reason why women could not hold their intellectual own.

The salon tradition died out around the end of the 19th Century. Clarkey was a fitting and original last champion.

Join the conversation – find us on Facebook, Instagram, Snapchat and Twitter.

Read more: http://ift.tt/2nBDHBZ

 The post The most fashionable Englishwoman in Paris – BBC News appeared first on MavWrek Marketing by Jason

http://ift.tt/2nQ63az

[viralhottopics]

The most fashionable Englishwoman in Paris – BBC News

Image copyright Hampshire Archives

Image caption Mary Clarke Mohl by Hilary Bonham Carter

It was the place to be in 19th Century Paris – the city’s most successful political and literary salon, where the great and good of French society would gather. And it was run by a remarkable Englishwoman.

For 250 years Paris was renowned for its literary and political salons, and for the fashionable women – the salonnieres – who guided discussion among the eminent figures of the age.

In much of the 19th Century, one of the most influential of the salons was held at 120 Rue du Bac in the Saint-Germain district. Here gathered writers and thinkers like Victor Hugo and Alexis de Toqueville, politicians like the Adolphe Thiers, the future president, painters like Eugene Delacroix, historians, orientalists, economists.

And presiding over them all was an Englishwoman.

Clarkey was her nickname. Madame de Mohl became her formal title. Mary Clarke was how she was born in 1793 in London.

Over the next 90 years, Mary Clarke Mohl lived an extraordinary life at the crossroads of French and British culture and society. Nearly all of it was spent in Paris, where she saw three revolutions and was on friendly terms with so many of the great names of the day.

But she never lost her attachment to Britain and in the Rue du Bac she offered a home-from-home to William Thackeray and Elizabeth Gaskell, the Brownings and the Trollopes, as well as to many aristocrats, diplomats and politicians. She was also one of Florence Nightingale’s closest friends and provided vital encouragement to launch her career in nursing.

Image caption Sketch of Mary Clarke Mohl by Hilary Bonham Carter (copyright Hampshire Archives)

Much of what we know of Clarkey comes from other people’s memoirs in English and French. But she also wrote hundreds of letters, many to her husband, the German orientalist Julius Mohl, and these were collected and published after her death.

She had an unusual start in life, one which goes a long way to explaining the unconventional course it was subsequently to take. At the age of eight she left for France in the sole company of her mother and grandmother, and apart from annual trips she never lived in England again.

Both her guardians were strong and independent-minded women. Her Scottish grandmother had hobnobbed with thinkers like David Hume and Adam Smith in Edinburgh and before the French Revolution lived in Dunkirk. Mary’s mother Elizabeth was a progressive free thinker.

Later, when they lived through the July 1830 uprising in Paris, Mary remembered scrambling through the barricades to get back home.

“Mama said: ‘Tell me the news, for Heaven’s sake – I have been quaking in my shoes.’ I said, ‘But I told you I would take care.’ ‘Oh,’ she said, ‘It was not you I was worried about; it was the common people!'”

Living in Paris under the restored Bourbon monarchy after 1815, Mary Clarke came to know Juliette Recamier, who was the great salonniere of the time (we know her through her famous painting by Jacques-Louis David). Through her, she met literary greats such as Stendhal, Hugo, Prosper Merimee and Chateaubriand. Chateaubriand – author of Memoirs from Beyond the Grave – was by now a grumpy old man, but he cheered up when entertained by “la jeune anglaise”.

Image copyright Alamy

Image caption Portrait of Madame Recamier by Jacques-Louis David

But by 1838, Recamier’s rule was coming to an end. So Clarke – still with her mother – moved into the third floor apartment at 120 Rue du Bac (above Chateaubriand) and set about the task of becoming her successor.

Seen from the distance of 150 years, Clarkey comes across as the most splendidly original and sympathetic of characters.

Appearance was a clue to her very British eccentricity. She was small with a turned-up button nose and a mass of frizzy curls. The future prime minister Francois Guizot used to say that “Madame Mohl and my little Scotch terrier have the same coiffeur”.

In a description given by Henry James, “Mme Mohl used to drop out of an omnibus, often into a mud-puddle, at our door, and delight us with her originality and freshness. I can see her now, just arrived, her feet on the fender before the fire, her hair flying, and her general untidiness so marked as to be picturesque.”

Her at-homes were on Friday evenings and Wednesday afternoons. Guests were welcomed into two adjoining drawing-rooms filled with sofas and arm-chairs, with two windows looking out over gardens that belonged to the Catholic Church’s Foreign Missions, as they still do today.

The rules were simple. According to Kathleen O’Meara, a contemporary memoirist and Paris correspondent for The Tablet: “You were expected to contribute to the general fund either by talking or listening, but you must not be bored.

Image copyright Hampshire Archives

Image caption Sketch of Mary Clarke Mohl’s salon by Hilary Bonham Carter

“You were not allowed to sit staring at the company through an eyeglass; anyone who offended in this way was pounced upon at once Another unpardonable offence was making tete-a-tetes in corners or chatting about the room in duets or trios when conversation, real conversation was going on.”

No opinions were barred – save, from 1850 to 1870, any mention of support for the emperor Napoleon III. Madame Mohl abhorred the man, referring to him contemptuously as “celui-ci” (this one) with a thumb jabbed back over her shoulder. She far preferred the bourgeois domesticity of the previous King Louis-Philippe, who was ousted in 1848.

Mary Clarke Mohl saw herself as standing in a long line of great French women, starting with Madame de Rambouillet in the early 17th Century, who had wielded their intellect and charm in the service of culture, politics and reason. Often she drew comparisons with the fate of women in the UK, who she felt sorely lacked the freedom offered in France.

In a letter written in 1862 she laments how in England, “The men talk together; the lady of the house may be addressed once in a way as duty, but the men had all rather talk together and she is pretty mute They have no notion that a lady’s conversation is better than a man’s.”

Her own conversation – according to the memoirist Mary Simpson – was “spontaneous, full of fun, information and grace of expression. She spoke French and English with the fluency and accent of a native, yet with the care and originality of a foreigner. And when there was no word in either language to fit her thoughts, she would coin one for the occasion”.

She could also be alarmingly rude – especially about women who she thought were failing to exercise their brains correctly. According to O’Meara: “It was a source of genuine astonishment to her that women were so addicted to idle gossip. ‘Why don’t they use their brains?’, she would ask angrily.”

Indeed, as a young girl Clarkey had been told by her grandmother that she was “as impudent as a highwayman’s horse” – apparently a reference to the way highwaymen’s horses would stick their heads into carriages as the hapless victims surrendered their purses.

Image copyright Getty Images

Image caption Paris circa 1860

Though to call her feminist would be inaccurate, she was one of a generation that laid the ground for the changes that followed in women’s lives. From their letters, we know that she was a rock-like figure for Florence Nightingale, persuading her to stick with her vocation despite the horrified opposition of Florence’s family. On her way to Crimea in 1854, Florence came via Paris where Mohl helped with her arrangements.

Clarkey lived so long she spanned the ages. Born in the aftermath of Revolution, she died almost in the modern era. As a young women she had been in love with the handsome historian Claude Fauriel, but that came to nothing, so in 1847 she married the charmingly donnish Julius Mohl, who was seven years her junior.

Anthony Trollope’s brother Thomas described Monsieur Mohl as so absolutely surrounded by books “built up into walls around him, as to suggest almost inevitably the idea of a mouse in a cheese, eating out the hollow it lives in”. But the couple were devoted to each other, and when he died in 1876 Mary was said to be like “a lost dog going about searching for its master”.

Seven years later, Clarkey herself died and was buried next to him in the Pere Lachaise cemetery.

Image caption Julius and Mary Clarke Mohl’s grave

“Where she entered, dullness and ennui fled,” said another memoirist, Grace Anne Prestwich, in an article written after her death.

Conversation, said Madame Mohl, was not the same as talk. The English talked, but the French knew that conversation was “the mingling of mind and mind (and) the most complete exercise of the social faculty”.

“Society is a necessity to me,” she said on another occasion. “We all depend dreadfully on each other. We live in a world of looking-glasses, and it is the mind – not the face – which is given back to us by the reflexions.”

Mary Clarke Mohl mixed English and French customs in a way that few have done before or since. She was entertaining, provocative, unpretentious, rude, generous and loving. She saw no reason why women could not hold their intellectual own.

The salon tradition died out around the end of the 19th Century. Clarkey was a fitting and original last champion.

Join the conversation – find us on Facebook, Instagram, Snapchat and Twitter.

Read more: http://ift.tt/2nBDHBZ

from The most fashionable Englishwoman in Paris – BBC News

[symbianosgames]

Games Have Too Many Words: A Case Study.

The following blog post, unless otherwise noted, was written by a member of Gamasutra’s community. The thoughts and opinions expressed are those of the writer and not Gamasutra or its parent company.

In this chapter, I unwisely critique the work of my betters.

I recently wrote an article about how video games have too many words. We designers don't properly edit our writing to make sure our words are worth a player’s time reading them.

I want to do a case study where I go through a wordy game, step-by-step, and show what it's doing right and wrong and how it could be doing better. Most game criticism frustrates me. It tends to deal with generalities and floaty ideas, instead of dirtying its hands with specifics that could actually help make for better games. This is my chance to egotistically provide a different approach.

This breakdown will be long and gritty, but I'll try to include a lot of solid pointers. I'll throw in some jokes along the way.

The Subject

Let's look at the very beginning of Pillars of Eternity, developed by Obsidian and released in 2015. This game was a huge hit, critically and financially, taking advantage of a shortage of quality Baldur's Gate-style, gritty, isometric-view, story-heavy titles.

I really wanted a game like that, so I bought it. I finished it in a little over 20 hours. The combat was fine, though really chaotic and hard to follow. (The best description I read was "clusterf***y".) The story was OK, but the game is loaded with words, many of them written by Kickstarter backers. I ended up getting through all the conversations in the back third of the game by typing the '1' key as fast as I could.

I did play Pillars until the end, which is rare for me. Overall, it was pretty good. It made a lot of money, and the crowdfunding for the sequel is doing quite well.

I don't usually like being negative about the work of other sincere, industrious creators. Luckily this game got enough cash and acclaim that its creators can comfortably ignore the nattering of a non-entity like me.

This is how I picture the devs of Pillars of Eternity. They walk everywhere with big clip art watermarks floating over their chests.

"So What's Your Complaint?"

Too many words.

Pillars of Eternity wants to have a really elaborate world and story, which is fine. It wants to have a creative game system, with new, innovative sorts of character classes and spells, which is great.

However, it doesn't do a good job of communicating stuff to the player, because there's no editing and care in giving out information. The game just floods the player with text, important bits buried in gushes of irrelevant detail, practically training the player to think that the words aren't really important. (Again, I played a huge chunk of the game without reading anything but the quest log.)

To illustrate this, I'm going to go, step by step, through the introduction and character creation, the stuff anyone who tries the game is sure to see. Let's see what the game thinks is worth the player's time and how good a job it does splitting up vital knowledge from static.

"So What? You're Just Scared of Words, You Sub-Literate?"

No, I have a problem with the pacing. The human brain can only absorb so many random facts about game systems and lore at one sitting. This stuff needs to be carefully paced out, or it'll just slide off of the brain.

But character creation in this game floods the player with tons of facts, both about the game and the world. I came out of it feeling numb and confused, and almost none of it stuck.

So. You start the game. You pick your difficulty. And then you begin the eleven (!!!) steps of character creation.

I. Introduction.

A pretty graphic and some basic text saying what is going on (you're on a caravan going to some fantasy town, you feel sick), read by an old guy. About 140 words. It's fine.

II. Pick Your Sex

And now the troubles begin. You need to choose whether you are male or female. Here's a description:

Describing the sexes is about 160 words total. But look, it mentions a bunch of different countries. Let's mouse over one of them and see what their deal is.

Yikes! That's a lot of words. All the descriptions together are about 330 words, much of it references to random game locations the player has no knowledge of. "Ein Glanfath" "Dyrwood" "Glanfathan" "Ixamitl" "Naasitaq" How can anyone get anything coherent from this tangle? This is literally the second thing the game shows you.

Seriously, try this: Read the description of "Eir Glanfath" above. Then close your eyes and count to ten. Then say everything you recall about Eir Glanfath. I'll bet you retained very little. And that's setting aside whether this stuff is actually necessary to play the game. (Not really.)

And, worse, it's all irrelevant to the actual choice the player has to make, because the vast majority of players will know whether they want to play a man or a woman before they even launch the game. If a woman only ever plays female characters, telling her, "The men of the Derpaderp Tribe of Sirius XII are in charge of all of their basket-weaving!" isn't going to turn her head around.

My Friendly Suggestion - Go through all these random facts and see if there are one or two of them the player MUST know. Pluck them out and put them in the Introduction. Cram the rest of the lore in books the player finds in the game world. Then make Male/Female be a toggle in the next screen.

III. Pick Your Race

OK, we're into solid fantasy RPG territory now. Here are six races to choose from:

You've never heard of three of the races. This is good. Pillars's desire to create new, weird things is one of its good points. Each race has about fifty words of description:

Now, this is a description of a "dwarf." But, if you have even the slightest familiarity with fantasy, you know what we're talking about here: Standard-issue, Tolkein dwarves. Short. Stocky. Like digging holes, gold, and ale. Grumpy. Scottish accents. We get it. All you need to say here is, "Strong, durable, great warriors."

For each of the races, the description mainly says the lands they live in. Let's be clear. This is useless information. If I tell you dwarves come from New Jersey, whether or not you've heard of New Jersey, this tells you nothing about whether you want to be a dwarf in your adolescent power fantasy.

It's a total cliche to say, "Show, Don't Tell," but this is a PERFECT example of why this is a key concept in writing. If I say, "Dwarves come from New Jersey," and you've never even heard of New Jersey (or dwarves), you won't care. But if you go to New Jersey, look around, and see nothing but dwarves, you'll instantly be all, "Oh, I get it! I'm in Dwarfland!"

But it gets trickier. This is the first choice you make that has actual impact on the gameplay. There are six statistics in the game, and your race affects what you start with. Each statistic description is 50 more words. Let's take a look at one:

What "Might" means is important information. The player needs this. This text needs to be punchy and clear. Something like, "Improves damage from all attacks. Gives a bonus when healing. Helps intimidate people in conversation."

And this description does that, but messily and with lots of extra words. Pillars tries to do a lot of things differently from other RPGs, so it needs to be extra-clear about the surprising stuff. Having the strength skill also improve spells and healing is neat, but it's also really unusual. ("Dwarves are better wizards? Wut!?")

My Friendly Suggestion - Editing pass. Shorter and clearer. Ask, "Why does the player need to know this?" If you don't have a good answer, save this lore for much later.

IV. Pick your Sub-Race

This is where the seriously over-designed quality of Pillars starts to show up. Picking a race isn't enough. You have to pick your sub-race:

So about 160 words (not counting rollover text), to learn about the woods dwarves and the mountain dwarves:

None of this lore has anything to do with the actual game.

What bugs me here is that this choice has gameplay significance. One choice gives you resistance to Poison and Disease (though you have no idea how serious these conditions are or how often they appear in the game), and one gives you a bonus against "Wilder" and "Primordial" creatures (though you have no idea what on Earth those are, let alone how often they show up in the game).

Giving a player seemingly high-impact decisions with no ability to tell which one is correct is stressful and confusing.

My Friendly Suggestion - Ditch sub-races. Instead, give Dwarves BOTH of these bonuses. This creates more distinction between the races and getting multiple bonuses helps the player feel more powerful instead of confused and stressed.

"Cutting Out Lore? What Is Your Problem With Lore In Games, You Jerk?"

Lore in games is great, as long is it's not thrown at the player too quickly and without any gameplay context that makes it mean something.

If you love lore, I want you to get lore, but in a way that spares the people who find huge dumps of it grueling. There are ways to make everyone happy!

Anyway, let's keep going. There's a LOT more screens to go.

V. Pick Your Class

Hokay! At last, this is the big one! This makes a huge difference in your play experience. Here are your eleven choices:

One of the coolest things about Pillars is that they tried to make some weird classes unlike anything in other games. The cost of creativity, however, is that you have to be extra-careful when explaining to the player the weird stuff they've never seen before.

When I started the game, my eyes were instantly drawn to "Cipher". That sounds neat! And here is the description ...

Yikes.

The main description of the class is four long sentences, but only the second sentence actually says much about what the class does. Then a very vague description of the powers, which involve something vitally important called a "Soul Whip," with no explanation of what that actually is. Then a bunch of algebra.

That's about 120 words, for one class. You have to go through all of it to get a vague idea of how the class plays. The other ten class descriptions are comparably complex.

This is just too much stuff to muck through, too early, for a choice so important to the play experience. Bear in mind that we are still less than halfway to actually playing a game.

My Friendly Suggestion - For each class, only show the stat bonuses and two or three carefully written sentences describing what it's like. Move all the weird lore and mathematical formulae to a different tab that can be opened by those who care. When the player starts using the class in the game, bring up some tutorial windows saying the key details of how to actually use it, like what a "Soul Whip" is.

VI. Pick Your Class Details.

If you're a priest, you have to pick your god. If you're a caster, you have to select a spell or two from the starting list. For the Cipher, the list looks like this ...

The spell descriptions look like this ...

Again, a ton of reading, referring to statistics, distances, statuses, damage amounts, damage types, etc. that mean nothing because you've never actually played the game.

My Friendly Suggestion - Lose this screen entirely. Pick one basic, useful ability (the best one) and give it to the character automatically to get through the tutorial. Then, after the first bunch of fights, have the player meet a trainer and be able to choose new abilities in an informed way.

VII. Edit Your Character Attributes.

Figure out how many points of Strength, Constitution, etc. you have. The game, to its credit, says which ones are most important for your class. Standard RPG fare.

VIII. Pick Your Culture

IF YOU'RE JUST SPEED-SCROLLING THROUGH THIS ARTICLE, STOP HERE AND READ THIS!!!!

Yeah, I know you aren't reading all of this. This post is wayyyyy too long and gritty and nit-picky and tedious. But reading this article takes much less time than actually picking through all of these windows in the game. Which is too long. That is my main point. Now scroll to the end and call me an idiot in comments.

Anyway, yeah, pick some country you're from ...

Each of the 7 contures has about 70 words of description.

None of this has anything to do with playing the game.

This is the most unnecessary step in the whole process. When making an RPG character, you need to build two things: Its stats/abilities and its personality.

Knowing your character is from "The White that Wends" tells you nothing about its abilities, and it's a lousy way to determine his or her personality. If you read the description of "The White that Wends," and learn that people from there are mean and selfish, that's still not the way you want to player to create a mean, selfish character. You do that by giving play options in the game that are mean and selfish and letting the player pick them. Show, don't tell.

My Friendly Suggestion - Lose it entirely.

IX. Pick Your Background.

Choose from one of nine backgrounds.

The main thing this affects is that, every once in a while, it will open up a new dialogue option. This never makes a big difference.

My Friendly Suggestion - There's a real lost opportunity here. Once again, "Show, Don't Tell." Instead of having me declare that my character is a Slave or Aristocrat or whatever, why not, once you’re in the game, make every conversation option for all of these different nine backgrounds available to me when the game starts.

Then, if I keep making the "Aristocrat" pick, start removing the other options, so that I end up always talking like an Aristocrat. Then my character's personality emerges organically from the sort of dialogue choices I make in the actual game.

X. Choose Appearance and Voice.

Standard appearance editor and list of different voices. It's fine.

XI. Choose Your Name.

Gladly.

XII. The Game.

And, finally, the games starts with the tutorial. Which begins with a long conversation. Which I barely pay attention to, because my stupid brain is tired.

It's all way too much. Too many words, too many irrelevant choices, exhausting when it should be informative. Not that they will listen to me, but it might be an improvement to look for in Pillars of Eternity 2, because the market is not what it was in 2015.

"But Who Cares? The Game Was a Hit, Right?"

The real test of how good a game it is, is not how it sells, but how much its sequel sells. And it is entirely fair to ask what business a pissant like me has criticizing a hit game written by a bunch of big names.

Let's leave behind the idea of craftsmanship and a desire to always keep improving our work.

Lately, sequels to hit RPGs have been selling far worse than their predecessors. Obsidian's successor to Pillars, Tyranny, by their own words, underperformed.

Also, I looked at the Steam achievement statistics for Pillars of Eternity. According to those, fewer than half of players finished the first chapter. Only about 10% of players completed the game.

Now granted, this is not unusual. Most games remain unfinished. But that still invites this question: If the vast majority of players didn't want to experience the Pillars of Eternity they already paid for, why think that they will want to buy more?

Everyone should keep improving, if just for their survival in this mercilessly competitive business.

Video games are a new art form, and there is still so much we have to figure out. That's the terrifying and awesome thing about making them. And now, having already written way too many words, I will take my own advice and cease.

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The author sells his own flawed, wordy, old-school RPGs at Spiderweb Software. He opines on Twitter.