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sagurus · 4 years ago

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03. at gunpoint

Prompt was: My way or the highway: held at gunpoint

Using @whumptober2020‘s prompt today.

Buried in here is some Saguru trauma and some black org au. Once again, unedited and relatively incomplete. CW: firearms, some mishandling of them, although no graphic depictions of gun violence. (Someone does get shot, I’m just not descriptive about it.)

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The first time Saguru had seen a gun outside of popular media, he had been thirteen.

It had been a hunting rifle in the hands of one of his cousins. At one of the family gatherings, he and many of those others deemed to be children had been left unsupervised. Away from watchful eyes, his cousin William had ushered Saguru and a few others he deemed worth to one of the manor’s display rooms. Mounted upon the walls were hunting trophies. Animal pelts. Dead eyes. And there was a safe - a sturdy, unimpressive thing. William began to boast about a recent hunting venture with his father and paternal grandfather as he opened the safe to reveal a small cluster of rifles. With a steady hand, he’d withdrawn one for the others to take a look. Saguru, who had enough exposure to media and articles detailing at length the dangers of a mishandled firearm, maintained his distance even as his other cousins clustered around to get a better look. William at least seemed to have the good sense not to pass it around. He made a dhow of aiming the gun at a statuette positioned in a display case across the room, explaining the sight and other minutiae of the weapon. He boasted about using it during his recent (only) hunting exploit.

As Saguru entertained the possibility of just walking away and leaving them to their devices, one of the others—Jonathan, older than him and younger than William—spoke up. “You’re awfully quiet, Simon! Don’t you have any history lessons or interesting facts for us?”

This was a game his family liked to play with him: somebody would invite him to share his knowledge, whatever obscure reading or research he’d done which coincided with a particular subject, and take pleasure in marveling at his strangeness as he went on and on, spilling out what he could. When he was too young to know better, he thought it was flattery. Now he understood that he was the punchline of their private joke.

Unfortunately for them, he knew better now, and he wasn’t interested in discussing firearms. “No,” he said simply.

The gun’s barrel was leveled at him then. He froze where he stood, and he felt his expression turn stony. The room had transformed into a vacuum of Saguru staring down the weapon, and his mind cycled in an instant through the science behind the way the mechanism worked to fire the bullet, where that bullet would strike, the biological, physical repercussions.

William guffawed, and lowered the gun. “You should see your face!” He mimicked some approximation of Saguru’s expression, although he doubted he’d pulled anything similar to the garish terror painted temporarily upon William’s face.

“You aren’t supposed to point a gun at something unless you intend to fire the gun,” Saguru said, clipped.

“Don’t be so serious! The safety’s on and it isn’t loaded.”

How many times in history had that phrase preceded tragedy?

Fortunately, that evening tragedy did not befall Saguru or any of his other relatives. William’s father had discovered the boys clustered in the hunting room and scolded them for getting into the safe, however. Saguru sat through the brief lecture and spent the remainder of his evening staying as far away from his cousins as he could and trying to forget about the cold dread that had taken hold of him.

—

Allegedly, citing that as his first in-person encounter with a gun was incorrect, although it was genuinely challenging for him to recall the first time. Remarkably, he had no recollection of the ordeal. This was especially remarkable, as Saguru typically remembered everything, could detail memories he possessed from when he was far younger. He was told he had a gun quite literally held to his head once, shortly after he turned four. There had been very real threats made against his life. If he strained to recall it, he could recall the terror, and the visceral feeling of restraining force, but no more than that. According to his parents, he’d been scared silent for days afterward.

—

The second time, or third, depending on how you decided to count it, that Saguru had come into contact with a gun, it was because he had grimly requested firearm safety training. His mother had thusly made arrangements for him to receive this education. The fact of the matter was that Saguru was outright terrified of guns, their potential deadliness. He felt it bordering on illogical; a respect and caution for the weapon was understandable, necessary, but he couldn’t help but think that the amount of fear that firearms could inspire in him was not productive. Anyway, he figured it would be necessary to understand how they worked—not because he ever wanted to handle one, but because he felt the information would prove useful should he need to disarm somebody, or if he wanted to keep such a weapon out of more dangerous hands in a bad situation.

Saguru had not enjoyed firearm safety training to any extent. It was impossible for him to relax, and while he focused his way through the fear, it didn’t change the fact that he was still in knots the entire session, as well as for hours after the fact. Not only that, but he found he was a terrible shot. This was especially vexing since he performed at least slightly above average for an amateur in his limited experience with archery.

He comforted himself by remembering that he had no interest in using a gun, anyway.

By the time he’d finished his gun safety training, he understood how to use a hunting rifle inside and out, and had a more robust textbook understanding of other varieties of firearms (although no hands on experience, thank goodness). He didn’t like guns anymore than he had before, and they still made him quite anxious, but at least he knew how to handle one.

—

And then there was this: the world feeling as though it had gone out from under him, a pistol pointed directly at him, the one wielding it wearing Kuroba Kaito’s face (although, underneath some light facial prosthesis, enough disguise to maintain plausible deniability). To say that none of it made sense was an understatement. The visuals of the situation were adrenaline-crisp, but what he could see was only confusing things. The gun trained on him. The stranger standing meters away from Kuroba, who Saguru had only minutes ago witnessed in the midst of planting an explosive.

Saguru’s heart roaring in his ears as it was, he almost didn’t hear when the stranger said, “Take care of it, Cachaça.” Cachaça. Fermented sugarcane. Liquor. Similar in nature to Rum, although less matured. Portuguese, in origin, he thought? Cachaça, in application to Kuroba—some sort of encoded speaking? Or just a nickname—code name? ‘Code name’ seemed a strange, overly paranoid term to apply, but this entire scenario warranted paranoia—

He hadn’t even managed to figure out what approach he was meant to take in order to talk his way out of this when the gunshot rang out. Saguru’s field of vision became a dark tunnel, every part of him braced for the sensation of bullet burying into flesh, ricocheting, bones and muscle and tissue protesting. The anticipation turned him lightheaded.

And then he realized: he was unharmed.

However, the stranger was a pained heap on the ground.

Kuroba (—was this truly Kuroba?) looked at him, and his expression was something Saguru might have described as rueful, or frightened, or agitated. He wasn’t quite prepared to trust his assessment of others’ emotional state right then, though.

Between one moment and the next, the gun was gone, vanished away. Not holding anything, Kuroba’s hands were flighty things, moving quickly and with no clear purpose. Fingers curling into fists and the uncurling, fiddling with something, and then putting away a moment later. “Damn it,” Saguru heard him say under his breath. Saguru had no idea what to make of it. He was shell-shocked.

“We need to go,” Kuroba said then, reaching like he might seize Saguru’s arm, then thinking better of it. He jerked his head in the direction they needed to move. Kuroba strode away. Saguru followed.

#dcmk #hakuba saguru #kuroba kaito #(just a bit)#(at the end)#october writing #october 2020 #cw gun #tw gun #i did very little research so my american might be showing bc i have no idea of saguru even could get those lessons in his mid teens #pls understand i'm ignorant and didn't want to lose myself to research #so i Just Wrote #my writing

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drxnknhxgh · 4 years ago

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@hcneyjarwritings

He didn’t recognize her.

The passionate speech -- which had undergone several revisions -- Miray prepared to proclaim when she saw him again died on her tongue upon realizing his gaze did not register the familiarity. To be fair, she hardly resembled the mousy little wisp of a young woman she’d been prior. The time she’d spent away was a result of his rejection but Miray wasn’t to know the internal evolution destined. Like a butterfly she emerged with hesitance from the cocoon which provide her comfortable shelter and emerged a dazzling rendition of her former being. She found herself in Paris.

After two years away she knew it was time to stop hiding from the remains of her broken heart and confront the man who delivered the striking blow. Miray spent the entirety of her formative youth and well into her early twenties pining with wild abandon for the youngest Montgomery male. He was her closest friend and she raised him without provocation onto a proverbial pedestal built from alabaster fantasies. Her imagination rang with illogical daydreams of him one day coming to the conclusion that he shared the feelings of ardor, and they lived happily ever after. However, once she finally rallied the courage to confess her adoration her happy ending soared so far out of reach she was left staggering in sorrow. So, she fled.

It was an irresponsible course of action but Miray couldn’t stand the physical reminder of her one sided affections. She was destroyed and leaving with the fractions of her shattered heart seemed the only means for escape. Aside from her parents and the oldest Montgomery male, Jack, no one was privy to her chosen destination and she severed contact with lost love. Ashamed, embarrassed, downtrodden. The first few months spent in the City of Love was a timeless numbed fog of melancholy. Then slowly, among the picterques ambience and cultural pleasures she mended the slivers of her fragile spirit. She fell in love with the city, with its people and the language, with the food. She discovered her passion for photography gazing through the lense at the rich landscapes before her. Time was healer of all wounds, both metaphorical and emotional.

Leaving her precious Paris behind was an entirely different form of heartache but she’d experienced all she was meant to. Her bags had barely settled in her doorway before she was hailing a taxi to his place. An indescribable feeling of anxiety mounting inside the nearer she got to his abode. Did he think about her while she was away? Did he miss her? and more importantly, was she truly over him. The rush of emotion that flooded her when he opened the door nearly buckled her knees but she stood firm. ‘I’m sorry, do I know you?’. Miray almost wanted to laugh at the irony of the situation, there she was ready to shove in his face what he lost and he didn’t even recognize her. His look of surprise after she’d told him who she was wasn’t quite as satisfying as she thought.

She sat at the island in his kitchen with a barely concealed expression of forlorn whilst he chattered on as if no time passed. Miray was feeling less empowered by the second. She barely registered the arrival of a third occupant until her gaze lifted to Jack’s. Immediately her cheeks flushed as a snippet of a memory flashed through her brain; warm lips pressed with brief urgency against one another. “Jack” she greeted, a genuine smile curling her lips. “Long time no see” she rose from her stool to give him a hug but halted herself. How odd, she’d never been that close to Jack before her departure but the urge to embrace him was overwhelming. Miray tucked her arms behind her back to stop herself, beside it was likely he also wouldn’t recognize her. “You’re looking well”

#〈 thread I miray&jack 001 〉#and the spam ends #....for now #also sorry for the rambling

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arianadevareux · 5 years ago

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Imagine...

Being a ranger and falling for Elrond while recovering in Rivendell.

(Female Reader)

(For anon)

The path of a ranger was often both perilous and lonesome. Fighting against the agents of the enemy and protecting others in the shadows wasn’t for everyone. But it was the life you’d grown accustomed to.

In particular, you lent your strength to the men and elves that ventured near Rivendell. You’d found that agents of Sauron were fond of that area and attacked frequently. After dispatching them, you’d always ensure that the traveler(s) made it home safely.

So familiar were you to the roads of the forest near Rivendell that when you became injured beyond your ability to repair you guided your mount to the elven city for help. It was the closest to you and you knew you wouldn’t last long. You’d been overtaken by a group of orcs that had laid a trap for the pesky ranger that had been killing their troops. Although you were able to take them out, you’d received more than one wound from the attack. Slashes from blades left bleeding rivets in your skin and you grew faint the further away from the battle site you went. You remained conscious just long enough to alert the guards of your predicament.

When you awoke some time later you were only alone long enough to sit yourself up and examine your surroundings; the room was simple, but more grand than anywhere you’d ever laid your head before. Soon you were joined by a small group of elves that first let you know of your condition; you would make a full recovery with some rest and be able to leave once they were certain you could move properly. You’d been more injured than you first realized and it would take some time, even with their skills, for you to be able to confidently return to the wood.

Next you were introduced to the Lord of Rivendell, Elrond, and his daughter, Arwen. They were just as striking as the other elves you’d encountered previously.

“It is an honor to host the protector of the woods,” said Arwen. “We’ve heard much of a ranger guarding the forest.”

“We will watch your progress and provide you with anything you require,” said Lord Elrond. “You need only ask.”

During your recovery you were visited often by Arwen. She was curious about you and wanted to learn anything you were willing to divulge. You weren’t used to such treatment; normally others avoided you. Elrond himself came by often to check your progress and see to your recovery. He said that he owed it to eh one who’d helped so many of his people. He wasn’t as open as his daughter but he came by more and more frequently the longer you were there.

You tried not to grow attached to them knowing that once you were healed you would have to leave. You knew that logically but the heart was often illogical. Arwen was a wonderful friend and Elrond wasn’t what you expected. He was wise and strong while being a calming presence when he was near.

Arwen wasn’t blind to the affection you held for her father and subtly urged you toward him. She would leave you two alone if he came in whilst she was there and would speak about him to you, watching you grow flustered.

“I’ve not seen my father so invested in a guest of ours in some time. I suspect he’s grown fond of you.”

You grew only further conflicted the longer you were there. A voice came to you when you were alone that didn’t ease your confusion.

“I hear your heart, Ranger, and your uneasiness. I hear it as loudly as the conflict within the one you’ve come to treasure.

I am Galadriel, Lady of Lothlorien. I have seen the events unfolding in Rivendell and what will come to be from them.

You must follow your instincts, y/n, for they will guide you toward that which you desire.”

After Galadriel spoke to you, you were tended to by Elrond no longer. Even sooner after that, you were fully healed and prepared to leave the elven city. It was with heavy hands that you pinned your cloak and readied yourself to leave. You sought out those that had helped you to thank them, You were unable to find Arwen and so went instead to the Lord of Rivendell.

“I wanted to thank you for you have done for me.”

“Are you certain you’re prepared to leave?”

“I am not. Although my injuries have healed there are other things that make me wish to remain here.”

Elrond closed the gap between you and was silent a while before he spoke again. “You were curious why I have evaded you in the last days of your recovery. I had hoped it would ease the ache of this goodbye. Now that that time has come, I find myself thinking selfishly.”

“Selfishly?”

“I, too, wish for you to remain in Rivendell, y/n.”

Giving him a warm smile, you unpinned your cloak. You could discuss the matter further later. For now, you wanted to make up for the time lost with the elven lord.

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binamsblog · 6 years ago

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Political impasse and a new Begining

Binam Ranapaheli

Darjeeling is going to the Loksabha Polls on May 18 2019. The election fever has seriously hit the floors of Darjeeling Hills. All the major political parties have set their own blitzkrieg. This election is going to be very different than the other elections which Darjeeling has witnessed till to date. In the past elections, the contest used to be one sided and the results were predictable. The national party with whom the ruling party of the hills forge an alliance used to defeat the other party candidates with a huge margin. 105 days of illogical strike, economic slowdown, fragmentation of G.J.M.M(Gorkha Janmukti Morcha ) and identity crisis are the parameters that will decide the the elections output.

Gorkha Nationalism and The Power Paradox:

The anti-incumbency factor of G.N.L.F(Gorkha National Liberation Front) and the identity crisis sentiments dethroned the G.N.L.F supremo Subhash Ghising resulting the emergence of Bimal Gurung as the undisputed leader of the Gorkhas. People of the hills overwhelmingly supported his ideas and his apple polished rhetoric. The Gorkhaland movement spearheaded by him touched the pinnacle in a very short span of time. The pomposity of the movement cannot be simply measured in terms of engineered vocabulary(Gorkhaland vayena vane goli nidhar MA Thokchu) and artificial sentence instead is measured by the output. The formation of GTA(Gorkhaland Territorial Administration or can be said as the output of the statehood movement (led by Gurung) dwindled down the aspiration of the Common people. The GTA agreement signed at the cost of martyrs (sibchu Incident) and the post of Chief Executive of GTA projected him as a man of questionable character. No sooner or later he became the victim of Power Paradox. The opposition parties also had to follow his diktats. The right to freedom of expression(Art.19) was seriously violated even not allowing the media to criticise his idea(shutdown of HPC kalimpong). It is often said that Democracy does not thrives in a small place.,in the form of democracy autocracy will prevail. To criticise him was not only an offence but used to be treated as the horrendous act. Gorkha Nationalism ,the feelings and the sentiments that bind all the Indian Gorkhas was misinterpreted and falsely propagated just for his political gains. To criticise him was to be an anti-Gorkha(some still thinks) and a traitor. The concept of Gorkhaland has emerged from the feeling of oneness and the Gorkha nationalism, rather than by the head to head collision of power paradox and egocentric desires.

Directionless Movement :

The Movement that started due to the forceful imposition of the Bengali language again turned into a massive statehood Movement. Strikes were declared and The leader who was spearheading the movement(however the cause is not statehood but the auditing of GTA funds) absconded. The innocent people of the hill who protesting on the roads have had to face the wrath of the State Govt. The movement got a different shape due to the emancipation of the Gorkhas residing in every corner of the world. The reality is very hard to digest, the people who were providing an impetus to the people of Darjeeling hills from outside knew very less about the ground realities. Disorderness and tranquility destroyed the livelihood of the common people . Tea Garden workers whose economic status is very low suffered very badly. The Central Govt. refrained from the main scene and allowed it to become a rigmarole. Split of GJMM. In the absence of Gurung ,Binay Tamang ( Asst.General Secretary) took the leadership and spearheaded the movement. The sufferings of the people, deviation of the central Govt. Rate of increase of the martyrs mounted enormous pressure on the leadership of Tamang. The State Govt. on a plea submitted by the G.N.L.F party for the reinstoration of peace in the hills called an all party meeting (hills). The state Govt. is very rigid and adamant regarding the division of Bengal. Binay Tamang led the delegation as Gurung was still under the hibernation and was slapped with many non-bailable charges including Ant-national or waging war against the state. The outcome of the meeting with the state executive was prudent. On the advice of Gurung ,Binay Tamang called off the strike. People were against this decision. The wrath of the common people were visible in the social media, electronic media,etc. Bimal Gurung in accordance of the people's deviation from his orientation bounced back of his statement and shifted the onus on Tamang. The State Govt. In order to bring normalcy in the hills resumed GTA with some changes. Binay Tamang was chosen as the administrator to carry on the developmental activities in the hills and bring back peace and prosperity .

Pseudo-chauvinism :

Binay Tamang led GJMM received the support of the people. All the major leaders who were close to Gurung also equivocally supported his candidature. The political sense of the common people in the hills has been hypnotised by the so called pseudo-chauvinists. People should understand and believe in the pragmatic sequence. It should not make any difference whom so ever will administrate G.T.A Gorkhaland resides in the heart of every Indian Gurkha's,it doesn't changes with the color of the flags. Inorder to grasp the power and fulfill self desires Gorkhaland should not be used. The addition equation of the GJMM(Bimal) and GNLF Who were the political rivals once has really exposed the underbelly of both leaders(Bimal G and Man G). Again same rhetoric is reverberating in the eardrums of the people. Now it is up-to the people to decide. The upcoming election is not a war between the gorkha and antigorkha forces, instead it's a well planned strategy to fool the common people in the name of Gorkhaland and regain the power from Tamang's led GJMM.

Jai Gorkha

Vandemataram

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wonderingangelsuniverse · 6 years ago

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January 7th 2018

I’ve noticed something different in me which I think I understand. The universe is astonishing lately, keeping kind. It maybe because my wishes always vary from light to dark in some ways, so it doesn’t have to worry to much about how to find that fine balance between love and torture. I consider myself invested in my own growth as I tend to make sure I learn things I need to for my overall goals of becoming a better writer and most importantly so I may understand the humans more. I realize I have a fine sense of people/psychology as I have never truly been one myself, so I am able to take a not so bias embrace to what I’ve heard is truth from many voices in my lifetime. Mostly empathy not so much sympathy.

This brings me to my point. As we both know I’ve been experiencing raw emotions on a next level basis like I have never before felt. In any case I have expressed that I may need some assistance discovering what true evil within a person is like. I never expected in any way that I would become the dummy. It makes a very large amount of sense to me that in some aspects I must suffer in order to test what darkness is, but for me to be both the antagonist and the victim is a shock. Destiny is the greatest writer and although I too wish to be that good, I almost feel like it has a fairly high advantage over me. Over my existence, even at a young age, I have found that if destiny wants to shake anyone simple put it can, perceive or think such an outcome maybe not so much. Its kind of screwy, I have spent many, many of times writing out all the possible situations that may unfold upon the future. I have gone as far as taking bets with you. I feel like its not always entirely true as destiny attempts to persuade me otherwise with letting me predict small things. The problem is that it appears to keep an equal playing field for all the players in the game. If I am able to predict something then someone with an equal or better ability of anticipation an assumption can also interpret the next move. I can’t decide within myself weather to be mad or what, however my only outlet right now appears to be: to push everything towards the unknown. It’s because of the unknown that I am having these issues. This will never solve my problems and will only just do what I am proficient at which is to withdraw and berry any remnants of my issue. I keep finding myself having no reason to be so sad, not depressed, no, sad. A deep rooted sadness that makes me question if I’m going to stop living shortly. My lead theory is this strong inner emotion that often strikes me later in my day almost but most definitely heartbreak. I thought and I keep thinking, sadly, that I have once before experienced heartbreak undoubtedly, previously in my lifetime, however this is not true. We can come to this conclusion because of a recent discovery, one that separates admiration from lust. I’ve always understood love, as love is something given out. Love is not only something given out but something us humans are often exposed to at a very young age. I however have had a real tussle with lust so far. Not necessarily in a bad way but in a very confused way. Confused to the point that the only thing that makes sense to me, may not make any sense at all in the long run. I feel like the conclusion I have come to is both easily agreeable and nearly identical to the literal definition which should lead me to believe I am correct, although, from my point about destiny, I surprisingly may not know definitively. Let me explain, admiration is an extremely intoxicating feeling that makes me unable to get enough, because I find this person to be godly beyond and I must impress them. I fall unable, silent in fact, and yet I absolutely crave that persons presents. No matter how imperfect, their imperfection becomes my idea of perfection. Simple put, envy to an extreme. Lust is completely different is it not? I have gathered at some point that both lust and admiration enjoy holding hands romantically while they gaze at the vast illuminated ocean at the days end. Lust picks at me like ticks in hidden places, making me yearn for something I want desperately. I don’t consistently want actions from a person, but I feel a consuming warmth, like I’ve been eaten. I feel my blood rush in response to the ticks. The ticks are no unpleasing in anyway, but exactly the opposite of pain. I find myself taken away by lust just as I am taken by admiration except the dreams I have of lust are pearly sexual and admiration treats sex like its embarrassing.

In middle school the trendy thing to do was to have a boyfriend. I have to say I’ve always admired the idea of an intimate relationship with another. As I am/was female and ignorantly unable to be anything else, questioning the boy part in the word boyfriend wouldn’t cross my mind. What I wanted in my partner wasn’t sexual and just included sex in the package, so what did it matter to me? I was never repulsed by the thought of having sexual interactions with any gender anyways. In factuality I had already had intercourse with a male before I even entered the middle grades. I found it very glorious on a physical level. When I found the right guy, it would be both physically good and emotionally good as well, right? I was positive that the right guy would spark greatness in every encounter we made together. Wrapping this up I had absolutely no way of telling or evidence to reconsider about my partner not being a male. Why would I ever set out to make my life any more difficult then it already was? I scouted the halls of the middle school for the perfect male partner, even when I had a boyfriend, and was regarded as very happy. I was even admired for my cute little half cocked relationship I graciously accepted my way into as a kind favor. I loved the thought that someone genuinely enjoyed who I was, and could easily be broken emotionally if I were to protest. I’ve always been quite a kind and gentle soul. The boy I did end up admiring, key word, was a kid I thought was perfect in his appearance. I had little to no idea about him and in no way ever wanted him to mount me. I was addicted to how I felt about him however, always speaking of him kindly, and felt disingenuous stringing my so called current boyfriend along for no reason. If I had to break his heart it was going to be over the truth. The truth was simply because I didn’t find him, or in his defense any man, ever to be sexually appealing. I didn’t feel anything but love for him as a good overall person. always feeling that way over and over again towards admirable male personalities. Back to my walking art piece. My luck was quite fantastic when it came to wooing over the male I thought was perfection, sense I ironically had picked up many females online before. Definitely not an overly obvious hint to my clear lesbianism. I persuaded him to go out with me for a whopping ten days. I however was completely ignorant to this fact and avoided him like the pledge. I thought he genuinely rejected me sense he dashed off and didn’t answer my question. When I finally did catch up with him I found many people cheering in shock for whatever reason. Turns out he had admitted he would like to date me for some unknown reason. I didn’t understand this at the time so I was completely crushed into small shards of melting glass pieces when I did come to the realization. We did not love one another, I am still sure of this, but we were going out for an entire ten days. We never actually hung out or chilled, or did anything at all. He just kind of acknowledge my existence, stuck some half ass gum in my hair and made sure to remind me that my life was shit occasionally throughout those days. It was when he broke up with me and I realized I’d momentarily squabbled my chance that I was truly tortured. I retired from ever going back to my only public school option therefore deciding I could easily be self taught. I have only ever know this as heartbreak.

You however maybe wondering quite deeply at this point on, why or,who or, perhaps how, I managed to become heart broken considering I haven’t been with anyone as of late. I’ve acquired many deep and meaningful connections with an assortment of types of humans so far. One of my dear friends for example displays a personality type I like to consider like minded. Their like mindedness gives my brain a magnetic pull of justification. This person is always ahead of me on deep beliefs/concepts that I try to explore making them everything I could find attractive. I guess hiding that this person is female would be silly at this point, but you’ll have to excuse my need to be discrete. I did mention that I didn’t want to desire to struggle in anyway if I didn’t absolutely need to. Having a partner who could communicate both appropriate and clearly to me some of the answers in which I often seek out hands me no reason not to want them by my side forever. I find them both attractive physically and mentally, although I am unable to give out any physical features they have, I am sure you know whom I am speaking of Pain. Possibly I could go on and on about how I have been emotionally connected to this person, however I am not witting this out to cause myself inner conflict. My opinion on this person hasn’t seeped into the quicksand, because it was ultimately I who decided to be a masochist. That’s right I chose to stomp on my completely legitimate feeling. I debated spiritually and mentally about it but inevitably asked the universe to give me the ability to truly open up to her. How would I ever get anywhere in our already existing relation ship if I am constantly clouded by emotions that I don’t have a license to drive? It seemed illogical to me for many reasons. One major cause being that we had already spoke about in some way of, us. She didn’t break my heart because I find that she does love me dearly. Quite sad isn’t it? Already it’s unfortunate, although I am entirely to blame. It is I who fell for her. It is I who didn’t stop me, and it was I who made the end choice of continuing. Even at the time of discovery of my feeling, I still felt back then that I wasn’t a lesbian. I debated long and hard with myself on the topic of whether or not I believed that I honestly enjoyed who I was as an individual. All because of this heartbreak I poisoned myself with. I have always stuck true to myself so if I did decide that I hated me, it would be a difficult task to change who I am, nearly impossible in fact. I really can’t justify disliking my character in anyway due to my overall life accomplishments.

Finally all of what I have written about will come around now into my new thoughts. I asked the world what true evil was like. The only evil I have ever found is greed. Now I know that true evil can and will come from within. Sense I am now extremely heartbroken in order to speak with a dear friend on the same level, regardless of all the circumstances, I am pissed off. I am unable to be regretful about all of it, I am unable to be to angry at her in anyway sense she has done nothing wrong and doesn’t deserve any form of ridicule, and most important I am not going to be mad at myself for this shit that I didn’t sign up for. I didn’t say I wanted to be gay, I didn’t say I wanted to love her in that way, nor lust. I in no way said yes. I asked the universe questions, I asked the universe for favors. Oh yes I fucking nearly begged for love, because that’s what I was sent to this plane for. I was sent here as a human to do human things and be human and I REFUSE to take the blame for doing what I was called to exist for. No, I caused this, I undeniably did this to myself. I am the victim of my own crime and yet I have no choice but to be entirely angry at the universe. I will thank it, I will take more, I will complete any task it asks of me, but it can’t really be frustrated at me in anyway. NO, if the universe is a friend of mine then it should allow me to be mad. More Importantly because of the truth that it is I who both caused and was effected by said heartbreak. It has ripped a black whole deep with in me. My purity ruined by myself. I see the evil. I see it. I lay my gaze on the darkness I feel, how it manifests from the this sadness.

Edit from the Future: Blackhole of sadness not heartbreak but a deep warning from the pits of space calling to me, watch out.

#universe #dear diary #help #heartbreak #heartache #signs #therapy

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gaming-rabbot · 7 years ago

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Rabbot Reviews: Far Cry 5

Great taste, empty calories.

Far Cry 5 is the latest game in quite the lineage of a series known, as you might surmise, as Far Cry. Game number 6, actually, dependent on how canon you feel Primal was. FC as it stands now, though, is a bit of a… how to put it? A long call? A distant yell? An outlying wail? A remote shout? No, a far cry from the original two games, before Ubisoft bought the franchise.

(Yeah, that’s the phrase. Glad I thought of it, though I don’t know where I got it.)

((Incidentally, Remote Shout is the name of my new indie punk garage band. Album drops: never, because this is a joke.))

Starting after Far Cry 3, Ubisoft has been telling their dev teams to make lightning strike twice. Thus, each game hereafter has been an excited waiting game of seeing how they’ll try and ultimately fail to match the demented, yet incredibly charismatic villain that was Vaas.

And 5 feels like this illogical conclusion of just that. Because you have not one, not two, but four scenery-eating, rompy villains. Less a refined, precise attempt at the concept, and more of a blunderbuss approach; hoping to tickle a little of everyone’s villain fancy.

That, I feel, is the perfect metaphor for the game in general.

Last call to avoid spoilers.

Speaking of fitting descriptions of the entire game, let’s start with the intro. Because I have mixed feelings about it, at best. There’s a lot it does right, and some things it simply gets wrong, in regards to the rest of the narrative as a whole.

The pacing and atmosphere are phenomenal. The very air feels heavy around you as you enter into the church, here to take the titular Joseph Seed away from his flock. The pressure of the stakes are established flawlessly, leaving a feeling of palpitation, and a true understanding of just how dangerous Joseph is. Surprised as I was, the game even managed to shock me a little.

In that respect, it’s fantastic.

But then the game uses the cop crew you rolled in with as your motivation for the entire rest of the game, in the form of saving them from the Seed family, and oh god, it’s Fallout 4 all over again.

Just like the Bethesda example above, this aspect of the intro simply doesn’t work. And not just because it’s asking me to unconditionally care about cops.

This sequence of the narrative focuses on every other aspect of narrative setup except for the characters that you’re supposed to get invested in. You get but the most cursory taste of who they are as people. Such a small amount of time can mainly attach their personalities to a specific emotion.

Whitehorse is the calm voice of reason. Marshall Burke is frustrated. Pratt is nervous. And Hudson is… there too, I guess. Look, I’ll be honest, I had to look up half these people’s names for this review. Which I’m sure is only a good sign.

With so little to go on, I found I simply didn’t care whenever a cultist bigwig dangled one of them in front of me on a string, expecting me to bat like a good little kitten. Instead, I yawned and wandered off to play with the packaging the toy had come in.

Like a mischievous little kitten.

Which is such a shame, because there are so many other more interesting characters I actually did care about. And in the few scenes where the Seeds held them to ransom instead, the game suddenly had actual stakes.

Nick and Kim Rye were delightful every time they showed up. Virgil was so honestly sincere, I couldn’t help but like him; and his past, as it unfolded, was interesting to dive into. And Jerome was pretty much cool by default, and an excellent concept for a foil to the cultist bad guys, and everything they stood for.

But the story feels almost unconfident in its execution. Like the team is scared you’ll get bored. So the solution, write more story, or rather, several seemingly self-contained stories across the three separate regions.

With no overarching theme or plot threads besides “Joseph Seed probably gave the command for this at some point,” however, the connection feels loose at best. And this looseness makes the narrative feel all the weaker.

I’d much rather the story had been more focused and condensed. If they’d honed in on about one third as many characters, and if the villains felt a little less redundant, the overall narrative could’ve been much more refined and interesting.

Even the gameplay, while fun, has the same issue.

When traversing from place to place, you can’t drive for five minutes without a dozen random encounters passing you by, whether they travel by wheel or foot or paw. What should be a ten minute trek can sometimes take 30.

Again, it feels like the game is nervous. Like it’s worried that if I’m not firing a gun every two minutes, I’m losing interest. Look, I know this is the age of the internet, but my attention span hasn’t deteriorated that bad.

What were we talking about again?

But it’s sad though, as it detracts from what could be some very nice vistas and scenic routes. I can barely enjoy the quiet, introspective new addition of fishing without a randomly spawned cultist with an exaggerated country accent shouting “Fay-oond ‘eem!” and scaring away all the darn fish with a wild assault rifle volley.

Speaking of guns, let’s talk about politics. Something that could only ever be fun and only ever go over very well.

I don’t want to get too deep into this, as it’s been covered to death, and more eloquently than I’ll probably put it. For a better dive into the subject, I’d recommend watching Errant Signal’s “The Art of Saying Nothing.” To sum it up though, while at face value, FC5 might seem as though it’s about to lay down a scathing indictment of certain aspects of American culture, it really doesn’t.

Not for lack of bringing it up though.

The lady who owns Peaches the cougar, that is to say, the former owner of this sweet large kitten (no I’m not looking up the name this time; she’s not even a narrative footnote), is a prejudicial old woman who lives alone in the woods.

Immediately upon entering her domicile so I could acquire my new kitty and leave, she mentioned that my player character looked vaguely Italian, and made an off-color comment about not wanting her silver/jewels to go missing.

What is this, the turn of the century, last century?

At Hurk’s place, you can meet his dad, who wants to build a wall. What, no, not a wall down there. A wall in the north, to keep out those accursed Canadians and their liberal ideology.

Addressing controversy by obfuscating the real world equivalent is cute, but it lacks the punch that makes it such that it’s proving some kind of point. Here, it’s npc’s that you’re expected to stay on good terms with, so that you can get more quests and goodies, like a new pet or ride.

(Shame you never get a new pet who is also your new ride, though.)

And why? Because they’re supposedly better than the cultists who only physically hurt and impede people different than themselves? What’s the takeaway here supposed to be, that it’s only physical extremism that’s bad and--oh god wait no, it’s Bioshock Infinite all over again.

Of course, we all know the real reason why. To offend as few people as possible. Because every offended party is a potential lost sale. Hence why despite clearly using Christian/Baptist imagery and motifs, no cultist ever actually mentions Jesus by name, and the peggy symbol only vaguely and technically resembles that of a cross.

I’ve bad news for you, though, Ubisoft; it’s too late. If you wanted to offend as few people as possible, it was already over the instant you let writers set it in a rural, dominantly Christian, dominantly white community, in America. Right wing talking heads were lining up to be officially offended the instance promos started showing bad guys toting guns, bibles, and the American flag.

Because despite bragging about having thick skin, when it comes down to it, they typically don’t.

At some point, you almost want to lean in uncomfortably close to the game’s face and tell it “Go on. Say what you really mean.” And it never does. Making it satire with no teeth, which isn’t actually satire, but parody. It’s a flag-waving, gun-toting parody of American culture. It’s an American beer commercial meets Saint’s Row. It’s a romanticized outdoorsy rural locale with tacky looking guns and gruesome murder set to made-up gospel and old rock hits.

Which doesn’t feel that far off from a Saint’s Row game, but it wildly conflicts with the tone Far Cry 5 very quickly establishes for itself. And it’s such a waste, because to use an on-theme colloquialism, “bless its little heart.”

It’s trying so hard, and there are some things I can’t help but enjoy about it.

There was a moment early on, when I was creeping through the bushes of a small neighborhood as slowly and quietly as I could. I had not but a bow and a pistol to my name. Cultists were stacking dead bodies while their speaker-mounted truck played their very own choir, singing about water washing away sin. As they were finishing up, they began to sing along.

It was as First Blood meets Jim Jones as the entire game felt, and it all just clicked. The gameplay and tone all lined up so perfectly and felt so right. Where did that go?

Luckily, the game is also pretty charming in various other inadvertent or otherwise unintentional ways.

Obviously it’s cute and wholesome that you can pet all the non-hostile animals. But it’s completely adorable how Peaches growls at you when you go where she can’t follow.

There’s also random npc’s you can recruit for the game’s buddy system, aside from the nine named specialty partners. At first, I seriously wondered how any of them could compare to Peaches, the oversized mewling kitten, or Grace, the cool as a cucumber sniper lady.

But then I found some lady named Evie, who looked like somebody’s mom, and I honestly found it hard to part with her. There was something so ernest and amusing about the idea of somebody’s mom who used to embarrass them at every PTA meeting or bake sale, now in an awkwardly-fitting militia vest yelling “Get some!” to every other cultist who dared cross our path.

The gameplay is also varied enough with timed races, and puzzling treasure hunting segments. The latter in particular, I really enjoyed. They had me doing everything navigating mazes of fire to hopping and swinging along successive grapple lines under a bridge, skirting river water along the way. It’s good, varied fun.

I also really appreciate the organic way in which story beats are unlocked, which is really saying something for a sandbox. Normally, there are specific missions that unlock the next cutscene that actually matters, and everything else feels like so much filler and padding.

Far Cry 5 had the genius idea that everything should contribute to an overall progress bar. This makes it that nothing feels like padding, as you’ll always be working toward the next story beat, even if you’re doing what feel like side quests.

But it’s one step forth and one step back with you, isn’t it Far Cry 5?

Once you’ve unlocked the next story beat, you’ll be whisked away to the next cutscene to have one of the villains get in your face for the next five minutes, whether you were ready for that or not. It gets annoying after the second time, and downright numb the fifth or sixth.

It’s also where the writing starts to fall apart some more.

You know that old James Bond trope where the bad guy has him right where they want him? But then because the villain is so contrived in how they want to handle him, he ends up getting away? Well that happens almost every time. It’s cheesy.

Also where some of the worst writing in the game comes into play.

Jacob Seed has a neat gimmick, I’ll admit. He’s all about classic conditioning, A Clockwork Orange style. Alright, interesting enough. And instead of escaping, you wake up, presumably days later, having finally escaped his mind control. It was a neat twist at first.

What’s incredibly stupid though is everyone points it out. Dutch, Eli, all characters who know about Jacob’s MO, and none of them think anything suspicious about it. Nope, just “Hey, now that I can finally get in contact with you after an entire week of you not responding, come back and get uncomfortably close to me and people I care about.”

Nobody thinks anything’s up with that? Even after it happens three or four times?? And not even my own character thinks to warn them that I’m being psychologically manipulated to kill them???

Oh. Look at that. The game made me kill Eli. How very unsurprising. What is that, something like four hours of build up to a twist anyone could see coming if they’ve ever seen a story?

“Who cares, it’s fun, isn’t it?”

I mean, yes, sure. It’s very fun, in fact. Fewer things have been more satisfying than timing it just right to take down three baddies at once, with a sniper shot from Grace, a mauling from Peaches, and a throwing knife from myself.

And like I said before, the gameplay is just varied enough to not grow dull. But what should be a good game is held back by mediocre writing and a lack of commitment.

Weirder than any of it though is the troves of people lining up to say it doesn’t matter, because the game is fun. Listen, I can enjoy the gameplay for hours of mind-numbing fun, but still be able to pick apart everything wrong with the overall experience. There’s nothing really wrong with that. It doesn’t completely impede what enjoyment I, or anybody else, was able to get out of it.

I really don’t get this, though. This is no critique of the game itself, mind you, but it is at fault for bringing it up again, even if by accident. So it bears discussion.

Clean Prince was right when he said that Far Cry 5 brought up a lot of what’s wrong with modern gaming culture. Yet I can’t help but disagree with his reasoning behind this statement. Because he, like many, asked why any of it matters, so long as the game is fun.

Look.

Gamers clamored for years, demanding our hobby be taken seriously. Entire groups and brands like Extra Credits formed, to try and gain for games the same respect film and literature already had.

Nowadays, we have critics aplenty, like Super Bunny Hop, and the above-mentioned Errant Signal, who regularly dissect games with the same attention to detail movies, shows, and novels receive.

We did it. We’re here. We made it, right?

No.

People tear down bad writing in games, and suddenly it doesn’t matter. The game being fun is the only feature that matters, now that it’s convenient to dismiss anything that seemingly gets in the way of your enjoyment.

Even though it doesn’t.

If Far Cry 5 were a film, people would be trampling over each other to repeat the critics’ disregard of its milquetoast shotgun approach to writing, and lack of commitment to an actual point, despite advertising itself as any kind of satire.

It’s not like having an actual statement is foreign to Far Cry either. Far Cry 2 had a well implemented theme of deterioration in every aspect; your character’s health thanks to the malaria, the guns falling apart from being old, fire spreading wildly out of control.

It’s not even necessarily a Ubisoft problem either.

Far Cry 3 was all about the lengths you’d go to for the people you care about, and how growing and changing as a person ends up alienating you from them anyway. There was also an underlying theme about there being no real winners in a setting so deeply seeded with violence.

Ending sucks too. That’s not a good transition, but it’s as good of one as it deserves, to be frank.

It’s awful, but not because it’s unsatisfying and you don’t get to technically win. Not every game needs to end on a positive note, just because you work for it. Spec Ops: The Line had some of my favorite gut-punch endings in a game.

But the takeaway is just bad, for either ending.

Either you walk away from Joseph at the end, and Jacob’s conditioning kicks in again, and you kill everyone you just saved, or randomly and completely out of bumbling nowhere, several nuclear warheads go off around the tristate area. And everyone you just saved dies in irradiated fire anyway.

What’s the takeaway here? That we should just let dangerous people get away with violent uprisings, because hey, who knows, they may actually have been right all along?

The nuclear ending especially is just bad writing. It’s a twist out of left field meant to shock, and take you by surprise, but only because there’s nothing to indicate it’s going to happen. It’s trying, and failing, to ape the nuke scene from the first Modern Warfare game. But that scene was the dramatic release after an entire level’s worth of building tension regarding the bomb which was mentioned earlier. Of which said established tension, there’s simply none here.

Each region even caps off with you burning out the cult’s various bomb shelters. Only to find out, what? That you should’ve given up and let them kill and maim and steal all they like, so you could huddle down next to them in their bunkers? All because some uninformed zealot who doesn’t even sound like he’s actually looked at a bible lately made a lucky guess?

No thanks.

Instead of inspiring shock and awe, the ending feels random and nonsensical. Once again destroying any coherency the overall tone the game could’ve had. Is this supposed to be a fun, silly game to be enjoyed with a beer or a friend?

Or a serious and somber game where you face the deepest human fear of all: how people manage to justify overt acts of pure evil as “the right thing?”

All in all, Far Cry 5 is like a cheap burger from a fast-food joint. The taste is fine and it’ll tide you over, but it’s probably not very good for you. And you can’t help but think about how much better it looks in the pictures on the menu.

#video games #review #Far Cry 5 #spoilers #rabbot reviews

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freelanews-blog · 5 years ago

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Mugabe… end of an era (1924-2019)

THE news of the sudden demise of a foremost nationalist and doyen of liberation struggles in Southern Africa, former President Robert Mugabe of Zimbabwe was received by the global community with great shock and utter grief. The international media was awash with the sad development as both the print and electronic media carried the rather unfortunate incident in their daily news casts. Former President Mugabe, who later became the maximum ruler of Zimbabwe after her independence in 1980, recently died in a Singaporean hospital after a protracted illness at the age of 95. It will be recalled however, that Mugabe was ousted from power in 2017 in what could be described as “a Palace Coup” by the military wing of the ruling powerful ZANU-PF which had dominated the politics of Zimbabwe since her independence in 1980. The international media had described Mugabe as the strongman of Zimbabwe, foremost nationalist, a hero, and uncompromising freedom fighter who confronted the white minority settler regime of Ian Smith in what was then known as Rhodesia. Late Comrade President Mugabe was indeed a controversial figure as initially he was the toast of the Western powers soon after Zimbabwe’s independence apparently due his pro-western policies. However, the honey moon with the Western powers suddenly became sour and terribly strained when Mugabe began to adopt stringent and anti-white policies in favour of his black majority Zimbabwens, an action considered inimical to the interest of the white minority settlers who were in total control of the nation’s economy at independence.

Mugabe will be remembered as a fearless and revolutionary icon who confronted the racist white minority settlers despite their military might in the then white dominated Rhodesia. The erstwhile British Colonial Powers were then ruling what used to be known as the Federation of Rhodesia and Nyasaland under Sir Roy Wellinsky as the Prime Minister. The Federation was made up of Northern Rhodesia (now Zambia), Southern Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe) and Nyasaland (now Malawi). During the fierce and relentless struggles for liberation and freedom then sweeping across the continent of Africa between early 50s and 60s, the British was forced to grant independence first to Zambia, formerly Northern Rhodesia under the leadership of Kenneth Kaunda as the first President, then quickly followed by Malawi, formerly Nyasaland under the leadership of Hastings Kamuzu Banda as her first President. Regrettably, in the case of Southern Rhodesia now Zimbabwe, the British in her characteristic dubious diplomacy of divide and rule tactics refused to grant independence to the genuine black majority but rather surreptitiously encouraged the white minority settlers to continue to dominate and subjugate the black population purely for her selfish economic interest as Rhodesia was then the economic powerhouse of Southern Africa during the dark era. The nationalists and freedom fighters led by the indefatigable Joshua Nkomo, together with Bishop Abel Muzarewa, Rev. Ndabaningi Sethole and Robert Mugabe, among other nationalist fighters immediately declared total war against the white minority settler regime led by the arch racist and oppressor, Ian Smith who had boasted that black majority rule in what was then known as Rhodesia could only happen after 1000 years and certainly not in his life time. As the liberation war was then raging in its intensity, some of the moderate nationalist leaders, notably Joshua Nkomo and Bishop Abel Muzarewa were later lured and compromised to join the white minority government, an action considered by Robert Mugabe and his ZANU-PF as an unpardonable betrayal and complete sell out, prompting Mugabe and his associates to launch a guerrilla warfare against the racist regime. In 1965, the erstwhile leader of the white racist regime, Ian Smith unilaterally declared independence for Rhodesia, otherwise known as (UDI). The then British government responded swiftly against the illegal declaration of independence (UDI) by dispatching a naval warship”NS Tiger” to Rhodesia ostensibly to quell the insurrection. Paradoxically, the warship was conveying the then British Prime Minister, Harold Wilson who on arrival in Rhodesia merely invited the rebel leader Ian Smith for talks aboard the warship. It was indeed a great irony, illogical, and hypocritical of the British Government to have treated the glaring case of rebellion and high treason against Ian Smith with such levity without adequate sanctions but rather, the rebel leader Ian Smith was accorded rare diplomatic niceties and respect by the erstwhile British colonial powers simply because he was a white and obviously one of their own. That was the height of British perfidy and double standard reminiscent of her inglorious colonial era in Africa. It must be noted however, that Ian Smith had rebelled against Her Majesty’s government at the time he unilaterally and illegally declared Rhodesia independent from Britain as the colonial powers. As the liberation struggles were raging unabated and the white minority settlers became more vulnerable and at the receiving end, the British government was forced to convene independence conference in London where formal independence was finally granted to Zimbabwe to be preceded by a general election under the universal adult suffrage and participated by all parties. Robert Mugabe and his ZANU-PF won a decisive victory and controlled the majority seats in parliament and subsequently became the first Prime Minister of independent Zimbabwe in 1980. Mugabe later became the President of Zimbabwe in a flourishing and strong economy that was solely engineered and managed by the white farmers who were controlling the nation’s economy at independence. However, Zimbabwe’s hitherto strong economy suddenly began to witness a downturn as a result of the arbitrary seizure of the farm lands owned by the white settlers by the Zimbabwen Government which were later redistributed to the black Zimbabwens, who knew little or nothing about mechanised farming. The consequences of the misguided and ill-advised state policy, otherwise known as Afrikanisation policy was the beginning of the total collapse of Zimbabwe’s economy which had since nosedived to all time low in the recent history of that county. It is a matter of deep regret that Late President Mugabe had unwittingly squandered tremendous goodwill he hitherto enjoyed across the globe soon after Zimbabwe’s independence as he was then looked upon as a beacon of hope for other nations still under colonial domination and servitude. Sadly, Mugabe later embarked on authoritarian and dictatorial tendencies aimed at suppressing political dissent and cowing his perceived political enemies. As it is common with all dictators, the late Mugabe had transformed himself into a medieval emperor to be greatly revered and worshiped by his “subjects” and thereby totally alienating himself from the people on whose mandate he came to power. It is said that absolute power corrupts absolutely and this common saying summed up the tragedy of Robert Mugabe who progressively became a despot and tyrant against his own people. As Mugabe’s authoritarian and dictatorial regime became intolerable and unacceptable by the international community, the Commonwealth of Nations, headed by Britain suspended Zimbabwe from that largely ceremonial organization. The Western powers also followed suit by imposing punitive economic sanctions against Zimbabwe which further crippled Zimbabwe’s fragile economy with the devastating consequences on the lives of the people. These political cum-economic sanctions mounted by the international community against Zimbabwe compelled Mugabe at a certain stage to enter into power sharing arrangement with the charismatic and irrepressible opposition leader, Late Morgan Tsvangirai of the Movement for Democratic Change, who later became the Prime Minister after an inconclusive general election that produced no clear winner. Mugabe embarked on the power sharing arrangement apparently to placate the international community that was determined to punish him for his dictatorial tendencies and lack of rule of law in his “pariah” nation. Mugabe obviously had to bend backwards to strike the power sharing deal with the opposition as a mere symbolic diplomatic gesture to avert further severe economic sanctions by the international community as the sanctions were already having devastating effect on Zimbabwe’s economy. The power sharing arrangement however was short lived and consequently collapsed after Morgan Tsvangirai and his party later pulled out of the government. In the aftermath of the illegal confiscation of the farm lands owned by the white farmers by Mugabe’s regime without any compensation, the white farmers were forced to re-locate to other African countries such as South Africa, Namibia, Zambia, Malawi and even Nigeria where some of the white farmers had established their famous tobacco farms. The economy of Zimbabwe as at the time Mugabe was ousted from power in 2017, had become even worse and almost irredeemable as Zimbabwen citizens now cue in long lines to procure essential commodities, even as the Zimbabwen currency (the dollar) has become almost useless as it has lost his purchasing power. Again, as it is common with all dictators and sit-tight presidents in Africa, Late President Mugabe failed to groom his successor from among his former colleagues during the liberation struggles but rather preferred his young wife, Grace, to succeed him and that singular and unpopular decision brought about his dramatic downfall from grace to grass and with ignominy. Mugabe will surely be remembered as a great leader who fought tirelessly for the liberation and emancipation of his people from the clutches of colonialism, oppression and exploitation by the erstwhile British colonial occupation but tragically failed to leave the stage while the ovation was still loudest. The life and times of President Mugabe should therefore serve as an important lesson for other African leaders and indeed other developing nations of the world that the era of naked dictatorship and sit-tight syndrome is permanently over and political leaders must direct their energies towards bequeathing enduring legacies to their future generations as history will certainly judge them for their actions or inactions. Read the full article

#coup #MUGABE #palace #president #ZIMBABWE

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jamesgeiiger · 6 years ago

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Post Arcade’s top 10 games of 2018

Quick warning to those in search of a little confirmation bias: Some of the year’s most popular plays — including Super Smash Bros. Ultimate, Fortnite, and FIFA 19 — just aren’t my bag. Power to anyone who enjoys these games, but I’m more interested in single-player games focused on storytelling. It’s just how I’m built.

With that in mind, 2018 was a bit of a mixed bag for me. There was a handful of truly standout games that satisfied my personal proclivities, but the overall depth of offering felt a little shallow. A sign, I suspect, of current gaming trends and appetites.

He said, she said: Pokémon: Let's Go, Pikachu!

Nintendo president Reggie Fils-Aimé on Labo's educational potential

Red Dead Redemption 2 review: An immersive and sympathetic tale of American outlaw life

And so my top 10 games of 2018 isn’t in fact a top 10 list at all, but rather a top five list, with an additional five titles I enjoyed added as honourable mentions in no particular order simply because I feel an illogical need to adhere to the tradition of a list comprised of 10 items.

Red Dead Redemption 2.

1. Red Dead Redemption 2 (Xbox One, PS3, PC)

Rockstar’s simulation of the Old West (or a couple thousand miles east of the Old West, if we’re being geographically technical about it) gives players a deeply authentic taste of what outlaw life was like a little over a hundred years ago. More than that, it delivers a profoundly tragic tale about a man who knows right from wrong and too often chooses the latter. Laugh all you like at the admittedly riotous horse fail videos that have been popping up on YouTube since its release; the moving story at the heart of this classic oater is going to be studied and dissected by critics and game design students for years to come.

God of War.

2. God of War (PS4)

Mockingly referred to as “Dad of War” prior to release due to its focus on the relationship between series protagonist Kratos and his son, this renewal of one of Sony’s most beloved franchises is daring, beautiful, and emotionally poignant. It picks up with everyone’s favourite musclebound demigod trying to create a new life in a land far away from the chaos he authored in Greece, only to come face to face with a fresh pantheon of angry deities. The real emphasis, though, is on Kratos’s interactions with his son, a constant companion for whom he feels an almost paranoid responsibility after the death of his mother. This more insular narrative tack results in the franchise’s best storytelling, by an Olympic mile.

Detroit: Become Human.

3. Detroit Become Human (PS4)

An absolutely enthralling depiction of a world in which believably humanoid androids exist and are at the cusp of joining us on equal terms as sentient intelligences — assuming they can mount a successful revolution. Its narrative is spread across a cast of multiple protagonists, each of whom can die permanently based on the player’s irrevocable decisions. Like most works from designer David Cage, its status as game is debatable. It’s not about winning or mastering play mechanics so much as it is about making decisions based on your sense of mortality and morality. Add in some of the year’s best production values and a sci-fi subject that has always fascinated me, and this one was bound to be one of my favourites.

Below.

4. Below (Xbox One, Windows PC)

The latest from Toronto-based indie darling Capybera Games, Below is a deliciously mysterious little role-playing game set on an island in the middle of the ocean. Travelers come, one by one, to discover the secrets lying at the atoll’s core. Nothing is explained; you’ll need to riddle out the purpose of everything you find. And when you die, you die forever. You’ll begin again as a new adventurer on the beach, all of your gear lost, forced to retrace the path of the previous hero. But not to worry; the cave dungeons are different for each traveler, and if you’ve done a thorough job of exploring you’ll have found shortcuts that will quickly lead you back to where the last hero perished. It’s atmospheric, splendidly scored, deeply challenging, and full of discovery.

5. Tetris Effect (PS4)

It seems odd that a Tetris game released in 2018 would compete for a spot on a list of the year’s best, but Tetris Effect is that game. Chalk it up to Zen. Tetris Effect is the most chill game I’ve played in years, with absolutely mesmerizing visual effects and a terrific soundtrack. It knowingly borrows from another great puzzler called Lumines by mixing a variety of block themes and aural soundscapes into its classic puzzle play, but it kicks it up a notch by adding virtual reality to the experience. Play with a PSVR headset and headphones on and you’ll be transported to another world, utterly immersed in orgasmic block-stacking pleasure. Well, perhaps that’s a tiny overstatement, but I doubt you’ll find a more pleasing puzzle game released in 2018.

And now the runners up…

Octopath Traveler.

Octopath Traveler (Switch)

This Japanese role-playing game from the folks behind the Bravely Default series has a terrific aesthetic that combines old-school graphics with modern filtering for a delicious diorama-like visual effect. It also tells a set of surprisingly grown-up fantasy tales centred on a group of memorable heroes, each of whom has unique talents and abilities that help them not only in the game’s tough turn-based battles, but also in bypassing more creative narrative obstacles while exploring.

Forza Horizon 4.

Forza Horizon 4 (Xbox One)

This open world racer is stuffed with enough activities to keep players busy for an hour or more every night for months on end. You’ll race on road and off, collect hundreds of real rides, take on rivals, shoot professional looking photos, go in search of well-hidden collectibles, and earn an almost endless procession of little rewards that will keep luring you into just one more race well into the wee hours. That it might also be the prettiest car game around at the moment is just gravy.

Assassin’s Creed Odyssey.

Assassin’s Creed Odyssey (PS4, Xbox One, Windows PC)

Huge and beautiful, this ambitious adventure set in Ancient Greece combines satisfying exploration of land and sea, delivers an impressive roster of historical locations and characters, and serves up some surprisingly challenging action. The sense of discovery is terrific, especially when exploring ruins that were considered old even in the time of Socrates. It eventually begins to grow a bit repetitive — you can only invade and conquer so many fortresses before it starts to feel more task than treat — but the elements focusing on characters and plot never grow old.

Shadow of the Tomb Raider.

Shadow of the Tomb Raider (PS4, Xbox One, Windows PC)

The third chapter in Square Enix’s Lara Croft reboot doesn’t reinvent the wheel — we still spend our time hunting, crafting, exploring tombs and solving puzzles — but it does refine it. Using Lara’s bow, for example, now feels so intuitive and empowering that it makes other weapons feel passé by comparison. The real star, though, continues to be our heroine. Thoughtful, sympathetic, and compelling, she’s one of the most well rounded and fully developed protagonists appearing in games today, female or male. At this point seeing her in a new game almost feels like going to visit a very good friend.

Ashen.

Ashen (Xbox One, Windows PC)

This one’s like a Dark Souls game with, for lack of a better term, a soul. And a surprisingly gentle one at that. It’s got the core ingredients of one of From Software’s punishing role-playing games — including challenging block, dodge, and strike combat; severe consequences for dying; and a cleverly designed open world that rewards careful exploration — but it replaces darkness with light, and a sense of negativity with cautious optimism. You’ll be challenged throughout and recompensed for your determination and grit, but more than that you’ll feel as though you’re working toward a better world. It’s not what you’d expect from this sort of game, but it is oddly pleasing.

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mikemortgage · 6 years ago

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Post Arcade’s top 10 games of 2018

He said, she said: Pokémon: Let's Go, Pikachu!

Nintendo president Reggie Fils-Aimé on Labo's educational potential

Red Dead Redemption 2 review: An immersive and sympathetic tale of American outlaw life

Red Dead Redemption 2.

1. Red Dead Redemption 2 (Xbox One, PS3, PC)

God of War.

2. God of War (PS4)

Detroit: Become Human.

3. Detroit Become Human (PS4)

Below.

4. Below (Xbox One, Windows PC)

5. Tetris Effect (PS4)

And now the runners up…

Octopath Traveler.

Octopath Traveler (Switch)

Forza Horizon 4.

Forza Horizon 4 (Xbox One)

Assassin’s Creed Odyssey.

Assassin’s Creed Odyssey (PS4, Xbox One, Windows PC)

Shadow of the Tomb Raider.

Shadow of the Tomb Raider (PS4, Xbox One, Windows PC)

Ashen.

Ashen (Xbox One, Windows PC)

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#IFTTT #Financial Post

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madame-katorga · 7 years ago

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Roofing Belfast

Envision, you're standing on the sidewalk, hunting at an common home. You see the siding, the windows, the front door, and way up previously talked about, you see the roof. Does the roof have asphalt shingles? Wooden shakes perhaps? Perhaps it is fabricated from metallic or rubber tiles? A selected item is the place the main target goes, but it actually is every little thing you do not see that truly matters. You will find a whole lot much more to roofing than fulfills the eye. So allow's mention what goes on, beneath the shingles. The Roof Deck We learn to crawl prior to we wander, so when speaking about roofing let's start off with square a single particular, the floor spot of your respective roof that is produced of wood. Your wood roof deck is corresponding to an vehicles metallic complete physique. It genuinely is mounted in addition to the basic house body to present a region location on which to set up Shingles. With no a roof deck put in with your residence, there would be nowhere to set up your Shingles. And of program with no the shingles, your roof deck would rot absent owing to publicity to the sunshine, rain, snow and ice and and so forth...not a comfortable residence in any way! On Newer Residences, sheets of plywood or OSB boards are fastened in addition to wooden trusses inside your attic to sort the roof deck. Plywood or OSB boards are set up in a staggered growth with modest spaces between them to enable wood to boost and agreement as the wooden heats even though in the summertime and cools inside of the winter. Older residences usually have lengths of two" x 6" place in rather than plywood or OSB board. If the time will come in your case to switch your Roof Strategy, bear in mind to possess your Calgary Roofing Contractor modify any and all ruined wooden. Don't fail to remember, when your roof deck is rotting or damaged in any way, men and women walking on your roof could potentially crack or crack by means of the wood, generating additional harm to the roof system, these types of regarding the shingles...also to the man or woman who walked on it! Even so, most roof decks can face up to a bit little bit of exposure to water or ice just ahead of it requirements to be replaced. Steel: Drip Edge and Rake Edge Drip edge and Rake edge would be the 1st portion in the Roof Method for currently being set up. It is just a long and slender bit of metallic which is put in along each and every finish of the Roof Deck, ie: collectively the eaves trough and alongside the gable finishes. Some place regional developing codes demand the installation of Drip Edge and Rake Edge and also other making codes usually do not. Check together with your neighborhood city generating workplaces to discover out. In Alberta for instance, the Constructing Code isn't going to demand the installation of Drip edge or Rake edge. Therefore a whole lot of new residences and/or lower money roof strategies don't have drip edge put in in an effort to allow for more economical roof costs. We advocate nevertheless that Drip edge and Rake edge be put in on every single Roof Program, no exceptions. Drip and Rake edge is provided within a range of a variety of hues and measurements and will be personalized developed for that requirements of your respective roof approach. Putting in an appropriate drip edge normally will save hundreds and sometimes even countless numbers of bucks when your roof technique specifications altered. When your Roof Method isn't going to presently have drip or rake edge put in, tend not to stress, you are going to survive nicely adequate. Just bear in thoughts that when your roof needs to be replaced, the Roofing Contractor you might need to have to exchange a couple of of your wood Roof Deck on an as necessary basis. Steel: Chimneys and Skylights Arguably the most critical element of each and every comprehensive roof method. The metal mounted in the valleys, chimneys and skylights go ahead and consider brunt of drinking water stream on every roof. Badly mounted, a model new roof strategy can make a waterfall from your loved ones area. Every single chimney and skylight requirements what is known as "a back yet again pan", which consists of sheet steel folded at about a 90 degree angle (dependent about the slope of the roof) and tucks beneath the shingles and up underneath the siding, stucco or counter flashing close to the chimney or skylight. Every single once again pan needs a modest two" area of metallic sticking out 1" or perhaps much more from each facet in the chimney or skylight to divert drinking water absent from your corners. H2o want to strike the metallic back pan and grow to be directed absent on probably side precisely exactly where it may proceed its run in the eaves trough. Steel: Valleys In the very same way drinking water operates along the valleys between two mountains, water runs alongside the valleys in your roof peaks. Valleys normally get the really ideal concentration of h2o flowing by means of them, consequently installing them correctly is amazingly vital! As talked about within the Leak Barrier portion, valleys have leak boundaries set up beneath them. Although some Building Codes don't call for this kind of a leak barrier to get set up, we advise putting in 1 constantly in every valley. A phrase of caution: A lot of roofing contractors install valleys in the style identified as 'closed'. A shut valley is produced up of Shingles woven inside of the valley, in contrast to an 'open' valley that has sheet steel working from prime to bottom. Equally the 'open' and the 'closed' fashion of set up are satisfactory from the most Establishing Codes and by most producers, even so, the 'open' type installation has persistently out completed the 'closed' sort...and costs specifically the identical price tag to install. Question your Roofing Contractor to employ the 'open' type of set up for the roofs valleys, this could aid you conserve from obtaining to exchange your roof technique prematurely and in addition can keep away from issues inside of the extended run. Generally, an 'open' valley is installed by using a 30 gauge sheet steel, four' broad, coming in ten' sheets. This metallic can be ordered in nearly any colour to match the shingles in your roof program.

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