#oh my god i just found out if you press and hold the font options on mobile. it gives you a list you can just Select from rather than

[iamjessemccartney]

1 and 35 for Carol?

YES thank you lars

1. Are they associated with a certain color? What color do they wear most?

i definitely associate him with orange and shades of orangey brown. one reason being the obvious- he's a ginger with light brown eyes, those colors come built in. but lesser-known fun fact is that his middle name is Oisin, which translates to "little deer" from irish gaelic- so! brown shades to match the colors faun fur comes in :3

as for the colors he normally wears? i do like to picture him in deep greens and blues, and.. reds and dustier purples, but he's probably got more earthy tones and generally lighter shades in his actual wardrobe. and considering he's a professional violnist, he most definitely has a couple Very Tasteful concert black™️ suits in rotation.

35. Do they ever return home?

ohhh god he Tries. in literal terms? yes. he never really strays very far from the city he was raised in, and- the way i've seen it, he winds up taking over his childhood home when the time comes. the home he was born in, for clarification- the first one he lived in. but? carol takes over this home, his first one, because his father dies and carol himself can't bear to leave it empty or put it up for sale. his fiancée breaks their engagement and leaves him in this home, a few months after the funeral. his mother died in this home when he was still just a boy. half of his childhood was spent elsewhere, in another home, with other guardians, because his father couldn't take care of him alone once she was gone.

yes, he returns home, but home isn't the same. home will never be what he'd tried to plan for himself. but all in all, it is still home.

[thepatricktreestump]

Touch Me: Brendon Urie fanfic

A/N: so i had an interesting experience for my first time at a spa with a very handsome man i will most likely never see again in my life but i decided to turn it into a fanfic and replace that handsome man with an even more handsome man, brendon urie... hope you enjoy

for those wondering, it’s based off of the ask/submission i sent to @loverontheleft that can be found here

               Entire body sore and exhausted from the long week of travel, you trudged through the airport looking for a nice couch to take a nap on. The past three days consisted of canceled and delayed flights, and honestly, all you wanted to do was go home and get a nice night of sleep in your own bed for once. Sure, meeting new people and going new places was extremely fun, especially when not on business and just for pleasure, but it definitely took a toll on you. You browsed the many kiosks and shops that lined the terminal, until you stopped, suitcase in hand, blinking. “Terminal Getaway Spa and Salon” read in fancy cursive font, and a smile spread across your face as you thought to yourself there was no better way to relax than this. Plus, you had plenty of hours to kill in the meantime.

               “Hello!” you greeted the receptionist as you placed your suitcase down. “I’ve never really been to a spa before but I have a huge flight delay and was wondering if I could kill a couple hours here before I depart. Do you have an opening?”

               “Of course,” she gave a cheery smile and handed you a selection of treatments. “There’s an opening in an hour and a half, I’ll put you down for then?”

               Upon giving her your name and perusing the variety of options, you settled on a half an hour Swedish massage and a manicure and pedicure, then took your luggage and waited at a café. What you said was true, you hadn’t ever been to a spa before, and the closest thing you ever got to a manicure was visiting an itty bitty salon in your hometown to support your friend’s aspiring career in nail treatment. You munched on a croissant sandwich and downed a peppermint mocha, the time passed, and in almost no time, you were back at the front desk.

               “Hi,” you gave a small smile, reciting your information.

               “Oh yes, Swedish massage, manicure, and pedicure,” she nodded. “Just one moment.”

               Although you were eager, you were also a bit anxious. Getting a massage was something intimate and sensual, much less from a complete stranger. You wondered how it would go, if they would be nice, if they would have conversation or stay quiet, if you’d be out in the spa or in a private room. You had absolutely no idea what you were doing, but you set your luggage down and slipped off your sweatshirt, then took a deep breath.

               “Urie! You’ve got your 6:30 appointment!” the receptionist called out, and before you knew it, you were face to face with one of the handsomest men you’ve ever met in your life.

               “Hi, my name’s Brendon and I’ll be your massage therapist today,” he stuck out a hand and you stared at him, still awestruck, before breaking out of your daze and shaking his hand.

               “Uh- um, I’m y/n,” you gave an awkward smile. “I’ve never had a massage before.” You sputtered out the words before you could even think, and he let out an effortless laugh.

               “That’s alright, I’ll guide you through it,” he reassured. “I’m honored to be your first.”

               “Okay,” you tried to hide your grin but you couldn’t help it. He led you down a hallway to a dimly lit room full of candles and flowers, and helped situate you on a table where you head was facing the floor and your stomach was pressed against a cool, leather table.

               “Just relax,” he instructed, running his hands down your back.

               Although you couldn’t see him now, you envisioned him in your mind. Donned in a simple black uniform, colorful tattooed arm, combed up hair, wide lips, big brown eyes, careful hands, slim fingers- you almost just wanted to lift your head up and take another look. It was probably wrong, to be crushing on your massage therapist, your first even more so, but you couldn’t help it. He took your breath away. And now, to be here, laid out on a table with him running his hands up and down your back, it felt like you were in complete paradise.

               “Take a deep breath for me, sweetheart,” he instructed, and you did so. “Good, good.”

               Chills ran down your spine when he called you sweetheart, but you assumed that’s probably what he called all his patients. No reason to get your hopes up. It felt good though, his voice and his hands on your back. He slowly began pressing his palms into your shoulder blades, then pushing his knuckles down your back, kneading your spine, searching for pressure points with his fingers. “Fuck,” you accidentally cursed of euphoria when he cracked your lower back, and your face instantly turned bright red. “Oh god, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to- it just felt really good-”

               “You’re okay,” his light chuckle helped you ease back into your position. “I know, it probably feels nice after walking about the airport all day.”

               “It feels amazing,” you hummed in agreement. “Sorry I just- wow.”

               “No I get it,” he reassured, laughing softly. “Just relax and enjoy, darling.”

               “Will do,” you replied, closing your eyes and focusing on the way his hands gravitated towards your hips, slowly rocking them back and forth. He probably didn’t perceive it to be in a sexual manner, in fact, he was simply just doing his job, but god, all you could think about was his hands on your hips guiding you to grinding down on the leather surface, and you practically melted right then and there. You involuntarily let out a slight moan, causing you to blush, but you just felt Brendon continue on with his work.

               “Feels good, hmm?” he whispered and you hummed once again in agreement. “Wonderful. I have a lot of love to give.”

               His words made you feel like jello, hesitant and unsure of what context he had meant to convey them, but for you, it was all you could ever want or need. You could listen to him talk all day. He glided his hands up your back once again, slowly working out the kinks and tension, listening to your little sighs and mumbles. “That’s perfect,” you crooned as he began to work on your neck, rubbing soft circles in the tender areas in which you had strained it. “God, right there.”

               “You’re precious,” he beamed, heeding to your compliment and focusing in on that area. “I’m sure this experience will keep you crawling back to the spa for more.”

               “Oh absolutely,” you nodded. “This feels like I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

               “Glad I can give that to you,” he responded. It took every single fiber of your being not to lift your head and stare up at him. You were dying to see his face, that small simper on his lips, those dark brown eyes. Afterwards, you told yourself. Enjoy the massage while you have it.

               A small part of you wished he would just slide his hands underneath the fabric of your shirt and press his palms into the skin of your back, just to know what it feels like without a layer of your shirt separating you both, but then you scolded yourself in your mind for your inappropriate thoughts. He moved his hands to your thighs, which you enjoyed quite thoroughly, then your calves, back up to massage your back, and then down your shoulders and arms, carefully working at your palms and fingers. He then took a moment to hold your hands, ever so gently and cautiously, for barely just a moment, before letting go and then returning to your back. You wished it would have lasted forever, but sure enough, you heard him sigh.

               “What’s wrong?” you wondered, concerned.

“Looks like we only have five minutes left,” he informed with a disappointed tone. You could practically envision him with a pouted lip. “Let’s enjoy it while it lasts.”

“Amen,” you replied, easing into your position and soaking up the very last few moments.

“Okay, now carefully,” he retracted his hands from your back and patted your ass softly, making you startled but also amused. “Come on, you gotta get up, love.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you tried to pull yourself out of your daze, rewinding back to make sure you weren’t just dreaming. Did he just- spank you? You kinda liked it. A lot. A lot more than you should have.

“I’m sure you’d be here all day if you could,” he joked, and you slowly lifted yourself up from your spot with his help, him easing your back and offering his hand for support.

“Oh believe me,” you rolled your eyes. “I think it would be longer than just a day.”

“Well you know where to find me,” he gave a soft smile, leading you out by the hand and towards the spa. “Hey, make sure you stay hydrated and take care of yourself, alright? Have a safe flight back.”

“Thank you,” you told him as he handed you a water bottle from the fridge. “I’ll be sure to do so.”

Every step you took away from him slowly killed you inside. You wanted more than anything to just slap another fifty bucks on the counter and head back into the room for another session, but you knew your manicure and pedicure were waiting for you. Instead you slowly began to uncap your water bottle and take slow sips, then follow a lady towards an area where you could soak your feet in a salt bath and have your hands covered in lotion.

The lady didn’t talk much, just simply stuck to her work, filing down your nails and clipping at your cuticles, then dipping into the shade of rose you picked out to cover your hands and feet. You couldn’t help but try and take a peek at the corner where he had left you, and sure enough, he was leaning against the wall -staring back at you? You quickly looked away, embarrassed, blush rising to your face. Why was he just sitting there staring at you? You gathered up enough courage to look again, and when you did, you saw him chuckling to himself, still staring at you, then smiling and even waving. You gave back a smile, seeing as you couldn’t move your hands, then laughed back, returning your focus to your manicure.

You waited a couple minutes before allowing yourself to look back up again, and when you did, you saw Brendon escorting a middle aged man into the room, and you sighed, knowing he probably wouldn’t be out for a while. Instead you watched as the nail technician applied a base coat. That was, until you saw Brendon emerge from the room, panicked look on his face. “Uh guys?” he tapped one of his coworkers on the shoulder. “The guy in there only got a ten minute but he’s been snoozing for the past couple moments. He won’t wake up no matter how hard I try. What do I do?” He makes eye contact with you for just a moment, enough for you both to realize how silly the situation is and laugh, until his manager comes to meet him and walks into the room with him.

It’s enough to make you chuckle to yourself, lost in the moment, until you look up, surprised to see Brendon picking up a chair and scooching beside you. “A bit humorous, huh?” he gives a lighthearted chuckle and you do as well, although thoroughly confused as to why he chose to sat next to you. “Happens more often than you think.”

“Yeah,” your laughter died down. “Hey, thanks for that massage. It really was the perfect way to relax.”

“I’m sure,” he nodded. “Now pampering yourself once again, I see?”

“Oh,” you became a bit self-conscious. “Yeah, I guess. Just a little self-care.”

“No, I think that’s great,” he reassured, letting your embarrassment fade. “You should definitely treat yourself, I believe that’s a huge element of finding happiness in your life.”

“Absolutely,” you beamed.

The conversation gravitated to where you had been traveling and why, as well as how your trip had gone and an explanation of all the cancellations, as well as how long he’s been doing massage therapy and how much he loves his work. It seemed a bit strange to have him ignoring his duties to sit down and have a conversation with you in the middle of your nail appointment, but you couldn’t be bothered the least. In fact, the more you learned about Brendon, the more you fell in love with him. He seemed really genuine and sweet, as well as a bit dorky and silly, but deep down, charismatic and talented. Plus, he was ridiculously handsome.

Several moments passed before you thanked your nail technician and paid for your full appointment, then gave Brendon a hug goodbye and headed out the door. A sour sort of feeling settled in your stomach knowing you wouldn’t see him again and you didn’t even get his information to contact him as you walked down the terminal, but you forced yourself not to look back, and instead reflect upon the moment with gratitude rather than bittersweet longing. Logically speaking, he was your massage therapist, nothing more and nothing less. You weren’t supposed to fall in love with him or get attached, and you knew that going into it. That was, until you felt a tap on your shoulder and you couldn’t help but turn around. “Hey,” he greeted you with an awkward sort of smile, half out of breath, clutching his coat. “Uh, I’m sorry, this is really weird but uh-”

“Brendon?” you did a doubletake. It felt like you were living a dream.

“I don’t know when your flight leaves or if you even have time but uh,” he scratched the back of his head and sighed. “You’re just really cool and I’d like to talk to you longer if that’s okay? Maybe grab a coffee or some dinner? If you don’t have time or you don’t want to that’s cool too I mean I just-”

“Yes,” you laughed, nodding. “Yes, yes please.”

“Okay,” he eased back, laughing, nodding as well. “Okay awesome.”

“Did you run to catch up with me?” you tilted your head to the side.

“Maybe,” he admitted, face turning red. “I’m sorry I just-”

“I felt a connection too,” you finished his sentence, giving a brave smile, gaining some confidence. “Glad to know I wasn’t the only one.”

               “I just didn’t want the moment to end,” he confessed, and you looked up at him, smiling.

               “Same here,” you replied. “But hey, it doesn’t have to. Right?”

               “Yeah,” he responded.

               Your phone pinged and you looked down at it, reading a text notification from your airline. “Holy shit,” you widened your eyes. “No way.”

               “What? Something wrong?” he questioned, concerned.

               “No just-” you shook your head. “My flight just got cancelled. No other ones are opening up until tomorrow and even possibly the day after that.”

               “Well…” he simpered. “I do know a way you can kill some time.”

               “You know any good hotels I can spend the night?” you asked, almost desperate. “I don’t know where I’m going to go.”

               “I know we just met, but, I mean…” he shrugged. “It’s not like I don’t have a place to stay.”

               “Fuck,” you sighed, staring at him. “For real?”

               “If you’re down,” he smirked.

               “As long as you’ll give me another massage,” you teased. “I really like it when you touch me.”

               “Oh darling,” he chuckled. “I’m sure by the end of the night you’ll be begging for me to get my hands on you.”

               “I’m not denying it,” you blushed, picking up your suitcase and taking the hand he had extended towards you.

               “Then mark my words when I tell you that you’ll be praying for another flight cancellation tomorrow morning,” he winked. “Because sweetheart, am I going to have my way with you.”

[junkyardlynx]

Pt. 12

The pale sun bled through rusted holes in the sheet metal, luminous shafts of light falling into the somewhat dilapidated building. I awoke slowly, my body sore and drained. It took me a minute to register the softness and warmth pressed firmly against my cheek and nose. 

I was hunched over the table where I’d performed my impromptu auto-surgery, back bent and crooked at an awkward angle, but my head was lightly held against Sarisa’s stomach. Her diaphragm rose and fell in smooth, gentle motions, tempting me back to sleep. I succumbed, nuzzling my nose against the thin fabric of her t-shirt. They really needed to make women’s clothes thicker and more hardy. I’m sure she got ripped off for this. 

As I closed my eyes, ready to sleep just a little more, my thoughts drifted back to myself and the current situation. Seems like wakefulness would keep it’s hold on me for now. My own magic was heavily depleted and my body was sluggish in healing it’s wounds. Well, wound. The really big one I made myself. Though it was at a pace quicker than the average man’s, it was still too slow for my liking. I estimated that without a font of power, a leyline, or a collection of materials to consume, it’d take me roughly three days to be back in top shape. 

I hated this weakness that permeated my cold limbs. I was reasonably sure that if she wasn’t holding my head, I’d be shivering uncontrollably. Every cell in my body screamed for rest and rejuvenation, but it wasn’t really an option. Someone had engineered this path for us, and even if they didn’t expect us to survive, they’d probably have a contingency plan in place. Like some sort of assassin sent to eliminate us or something. 

Somehow, it was hard to care. 

Part of me wanted to give up.

I’d lost my comfortable every day life AND the exciting sorcerer’s path before me in a single day. My existence was the catalyst for some dark awakening of an incalculable threat. I couldn’t even keep Sarisa safe. All I had after that was this anger in my heart, this smoldering fury that replaced my heartbeat. I remembered how I reveled in the kill, when I bit and tore like an animal.

This time, I really did shudder. I felt Sarisa move a little underneath me, clinging to my head in her sleep like a favorite pillow. I didn’t move away.  

I didn’t wanna be like that. I didn’t want to be a killer. I was cavalier about violence when it came to those that instigated it, but there was a line I never crossed. Even in my most cruel and cold moments, I never flat-out enjoyed it. Yesterday wasn’t the first time I killed. It wasn’t something new to me. To live with magic was to live with death and destruction. It was to know the cause of things like “unexplained disappearances” and “freak accidents”. You learned to shut out the guilt and the torment and the unending grief at taking the life of another living being in self-defense.

You learned to defend yourself or you died. 

I learned.

I was thirteen when I took my first life. 

My dad and I were on a “trip” over summer break, training up in the mountains. The Ural Mountains, to be precise. The whole trip had been a spur of the moment idea, brought to life when I came into my father’s sanctum to ask where we were going for my next stage of training. My father had been reading a book titled  Гибель тургруппы Дятлова, which I would learn read something along the lines of “Death of the Dyatlov Tourists.” Apparently, the incident took place sometime in 1959 and involved a group of hikers dying mysterious deaths on the Мёртвая вершина, which apparently meant “Dead Mountain.” I couldn’t read Cyrillic and didn’t speak Russian, but I spent the flight on my father’s tablet, looking up everything I could about the incident. It said that the mountain was named because of the lack of hunting game, but to me, it always seemed like an oddly morbid choice. Surely there were other features to name a mountain after.

We had set up camp in the same area as the Dyatlov group had, though we had a far easier time because, well. None of their group members could levitate or conjure fireballs. Or they chose not to for the challenge, I don’t know. I was thirteen. Anyway. My father established a cozy base camp (complete with an extremely large and fantastically orange outpost tent) and set up a small sanctum, indicating that this was where we’d be spending my entire summer break. I was overtly excited, having read the embellished accounts of what happened in this area in detail. I guess I thought I’d be the one to figure out what had really happened and blast whatever it was back to hell. Sarisa tried the same thing with me when I got home because it turned out she missed me and spent the summer trying to get Thomas to go looking for me. Almost succeeded, if not for the fact that they were turned away at the ticket gate because her mother found out about the purchase on her card. Anyway. 

I was enjoying my first mug of coffee before it happened. My actual first mug of coffee. We’d just finished elemental channeling and dad decided I deserved a little gift for my progress. Honestly, it sucked, but I loved my dad and all his weird habits, so I drank it. I snuck a little more sugar and creamer in every time he’d take a break from his research on the area to get up to check something outside, though. 

I found out what he was checking for when a blast of lightning tore a hole through our tent’s door and opened the top up to the sky. It was followed by a series of loud shouts in Russian. Emirus clicked his tongue and looked at me over his mug that said “#1 Wizard Daddy”. 

“A warning shot is it? Ah, my boy, this is a lesson for you! Never discharge deadly magic as a mere threat. If you shoot something that can kill, you aim to kill!”

In retrospect my father’s words probably should have chilled me, but in that moment, they excited me. My dad was a giddy kid and that infected me. I was thirteen and pretty sure I was invincible. 

Dad put on what he’d affectionately call his “war face” and took the dramatic entrance, levitating himself out of the hole in the tent not with pure magic power, but with static discharge. Lances of thunder crackled off his body and he regarded our guests with sheer contempt. Pointing a finger at a wire of a man in full snow gear, probably in his late thirties to early forties, my father spoke.

Dad looked a lot like Dracula from those Castlevania games, now that I think about it. I’d stepped outside with my hot mug in my hands, sipping it and watching the proceedings. I felt strangely detached from it all, like I knew nothing was going to happen. 

“I’m trying to teach my son about an important piece of recent history! What business does the Russian government have with us? We were enjoying a sensible moment of father-son bonding.”

I still can’t believe to this day that he regarded a commando unit of Russian sorcerers like he was the one being inconvenienced. I mean, I can, but who does that? My dad, I guess.

“Emirus Culaine, you and yours have trespassed upon land under the governance of the Russian konfederatsiya koldunov. All outside investigation and exploration of the Dyatlov Pass must be processed by said confederacy of sorcerers.”

“Oh, you didn’t get the request? I put it in months ago. I had this planned for a while, you see.” 

My father, still dramatically crackling like a god of thunder in the air, scratched his chin. Holy shit dad, I can tell you’re lying. They probably can too.

“We have no records of this. I will have to ask you to vacate the premises immediately and turn over any research materials you may have produced in this time.”

As the commander spoke, I regarded the soldiers that had begun to take up firing positions around the camp. A sixth sense - honed by training with my father in perilous conditions - was screaming for me to take cover. I could almost feel the killing intent washing off of them as they raised their weapons. Some drew rifles, some drew magical foci, the others drew melee weapons. Instead, I spoke. Maybe I could get them to leave if I used my childlike innocence or whatever?

“Hey dad, didn’t you leave that one grimoire back at the hotel in Ivdel? It read like...koldunov gibel dyatlov...a?” I hastily conjured up a lie, using the very few Russian words I’d heard recently in an attempt to make up a book title. I’m pretty sure what I said was approaching nonsense, but the commander snapped his attention to me like I was the true target all along. I think he just realized I was there, actually.

Oh man, I messed up, huh?

“Kill the sorcerer, apprehend the child. He will suffice.”

Everything was kind of a blur after those words. Kill? Like, my dad? You guys are dumb. Knowing I could still end up an accidental victim caused me to dive back into the tent, conjuring up a shell of ice to hide under. It seemed like ice magic always came way more easily to me than any other. Dad said I got it from my mom. 

Bolts of lightning discharged from my father’s floating form, striking down a full third of the assailants before they could react. Bullets whizzed through the air but the static energy radiating off Emirus seemed to deflect all of them. Spells were turned away just as easily, causing the four basic elements to crash into the snowdrifts and mountain crags. I briefly wondered about avalanches before shaking my head, hiding under my ice shell for cover.

I thought it was safe once all the sound had stopped. Fires burned, crackling on the shattered bodies of the soldiers, all reduced to piles of scorched meat by my father’s power. I’d seen bodies before in our necromantic studies, but... the smell reminded me of bacon, and my stomach turned over. I emptied my first cup of coffee into the snow, breakfast soon following. Everything seemed less and less real. 

A lot of kids think their dad is the coolest or strongest or the best at Mario Kart or whatever, but in my case, my dad really was the strongest. He proved it. He staked his claim on his existence by destroying anything that threatened it with unrelenting power. The beautiful and hazy idea of my father as “the strongest” was suddenly a concrete and scary fact. 

He was the strongest because the breadth and scope of his existence wouldn’t allow anything that opposed him to exist.

I wobbled a bit, bent over in the snow, drool and spittle leaking from my lips. I heard something crunching in the snow and assumed it was dad. My body slackened in relief.

“I’m okay, dad. Sorry, I ju-”

A horrific wail pierced the lightly falling snow of the afternoon as the thing crunching the wet snow behind me flung itself on top of me. A caricature of a man, wiry and thin with most of his features melted or scorched off, grappled for my throat, shattered and broken teeth gnashing fruitlessly. I shrieked as a bloody froth fell on my face and his blistered fingers tightened around my throat. I clawed at his hands desperately, even has he whispered hoarsely.

“Dyatlov...it’s mine it’s mine it’s mine it’s mine...it must...remain fed..ah, it’s mine, it’s mine it’s mine....it’s mine...”

As my vision darkened, a voice seemed to whisper to me in my own head. Soft and comforting, musical, simultaneously chilling and warm, majestic. Feminine and masculine. It reminded me of my mother’s voice, but I knew it wasn’t. It seemed to dance around the blackness in my eyes, like it had a form I simply couldn’t see.

Snow child, why do you not brush this nuisance off?

Because I can’t, I replied.

Snow child, why do you lie in the face of death?

Because I’m afraid, I replied.

Snow child, why are you afraid?

Because...I don’t want to kill somebody, I replied.

Snow child, is your existence worth this little?

I just don’t want to kill people, I cried.

Snow child, is your father’s retaliation wrong?

I just don’t want anyone else to die, I cried.

Snow child, this man is killing you.

Am I supposed to kill him, then? I cried.

Snow child, you live in the embrace of death. Embrace it in turn.

Will I be forgiven? I begged.

There is nothing to forgive, son of snow.

I’m not sure how long the conversation in my head lasted, but it couldn’t have been more than a second. It was like all the power in my veins turned to ice and rippled outwards. The hands around my neck went slack, and when my vision returned, I had jammed a thin blade of ice through the commander’s melted and gashed forehead.

We returned early. My father said that he’d found out all he needed to know about Dyatlov Pass and that we’d return one day to set things right. At first, I thought he meant with the Russian magical authorities, but I realized he meant with the Pass itself. After all, the commander had spoken of something that needed to be fed, and my father had acted in self defense.

When I returned home, my mother found me right away. Her embrace was warm, her skin as cool as it ever was. Her red eyes dripping tears and her short black hair even more disheveled than usual, she pulled me close.. She must have really missed me, I thought. Sorry, mom. I did something wrong, but I feel like it’ll be okay somehow. I won’t be weak again.

Now that I think back on it, I think she knew something inside of me had changed. Something had awoken that she’d hoped would sleep a little longer, if not forever.

I modeled myself after my father. I defended myself voraciously, actively, coldly. I closed my heart off to the pain that resonated inside of it when I took a life to preserve my own. I drowned the guilt in laughter and the comfort of friends. I turned a blind eye to the injustice wrought by forgetting the dead.

That seemed to be coming to an end, though. Seems like I’d realized that somewhere along the way, I’d started to enjoy those attempts on my life. I’d enjoyed proving my existence the superior one and it broke my own heart. I wonder if my dad wrestled with this? Probably. He was old - all great sorcerers were capable of stopping their own aging and reversing senescence, so I thought nothing of my parents and their ages. They’d probably both grappled with this issue. 

I wonder if they felt as I did, though. I wonder if they would forgive me.

It was only when I woke that I realized I had been been asleep at all, much less dreaming of my childhood. Sarisa’s fingers were in my hair again, and she looked at me with a distressed smile.

“You okay? You’re crying.”

“Yeah, I was just dreaming of playing Knights of the Old Republic 3 and realized it’s never happening.”

“Idiot.” 

She tugged my hair and I winced, both at the slight jolt of pain and the realization that I was still absolutely disgusting. I wanted to ask her to get her fingers out of my hair, but the comfort her actions brought kept me pitifully silent.

We dozed together in the late morning sun for a few moments, talking about nothing in particular. When I went to raise my head off her stomach, she gently but firmly guided it back down. Told me it comforted her as much as it comforted me. I decided to talk about what happened last night and where to go from here.

I was in the middle of recounting what happened with Amduisas as a change in the air alerted me to danger. That sixth sense I’d developed prodigiously over the years screamed at me that someone unknown was close. Something wavering on the thin edge of hostility.

“Sarisa-”

“Yeah, we have a visitor.”

[darkmindsthinktwistedthoughts]

Devil’s Temptation pt7

Warnings: Mob Styling Warlords, Strong Language

Masterlist

---

Chapter 7 – What you see

Esshu Industries Main Building

White cotton gloves brushed over the documents in front of him. He had been at the office since late last night, meticulously arranging and rearranging things after he was contacted to say an agreement had been reached. He was in the middle of his ritual of cleaning when a cup from a coffee shop was placed on the desk by him with a paper bag.

“I didn’t realise you’d pull an all-nighter.” The voice behind him was accompanied with a quiet slurp sound as they drank from a similar cup.

“There were too many loose ends and things to ignore, so I had to get it finished.” Tanaka informed his boss barely hiding the shiver he felt creep over him as he watched the other man drink happily from the plastic lid of the paper cup.

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, after all, you have always been the same, Shin.” Takahiro smirked, a playful edge to his voice emerged as he continued to speak. “I also won’t deny that your affliction to seek perfection and make sure everything is done a set way has resulted in completely satisfying results.”

“Are you talking professionally?” Shin hid his fluster masterfully. All too aware of how Takahiro liked to play games.

“I always talk professionally in the office.” Takahiro straightened in a slightly defiant stance. “A certain someone gives me a lecture if I don’t.”

“Uhuh… well, I wish you wouldn’t drink out of that.” Shin retrieved a set of china coffee mugs from a small cupboard in his office placing them one by one on the desk after giving them a thorough wipe with a clean cloth.

“It is a paper cup… a new one.” Takahiro all but laughed as he watched the ash blonde man in front of him decant the coffee from their café cup into the mug.

“How new? You are aware that they store those things before use.” Shin gave a small pleading look to Takahiro as he reached for their cup.

“Yeah, and they are clean. If they weren’t the inspectors would shut down the places.” An idea partly formed in Takahiro’s mind to play keep away with the coffee but he knew it would only result in Shin being annoyed. Sometimes it was so annoying to have such a diligent man working for him.

“Not the point.” Grasping the cup firmly Shin poured the second café cup into a mug and handed it back to his boss.

“Oh fine. You worked hard it’s not like I have it in me to argue with you right now.”

“What is this?” Shin peered into his mug after finally looking at the drink for the first time. He never really went for fancy coffee and drinks from cafes. It wasn’t regulated enough for him.

Takahiro had often called him a germophobic hermit crab, but it was habit now. All those years spent in “dispatch” you learnt to watch your back and the easiest way to hurt someone was to spike the drink and food. It was a low move but effective. Couple that with the desire to leave no evidence or trace you were even there and you had Shin Tanaka.

“Spiced latte I thought you’d like it.” Takahiro shrugged before returning to work mode “Well I have to get back to work. Meeting with the board still at three?”

“Yes, and you have some urgent emails that need immediate attention and someone from a holdings company called saying, “it’s done”. I assume that makes sense to you?” Shin looked at the dark-haired man trying to get a read on him. After what he was told last night that meant he had to pull an all-nighter. He was a little worried Takahiro might be feeling a little pressured.

“Yes perfectly. Thanks, see you later.” The response came fast and gave the appearance of someone fleeing. “Oh, I completely forgot.” Takahiro nudged the paper bag closer to Shin. “For you.” He left the office with his coffee mug in hand without looking back. Curiosity got the better of him and Shin peered in at the contents of the bag. A large iced cookie with bright red icing on it glared back at him “I Love you” written on it in a fancy font.

“That man…” Shin muttered in exasperation. Takahiro always found a loophole in a rule of no flirting at work. But contrary to his apparent mood, a smile swept over Shin’s face at the sweet gesture.

---

The room was buzzing and alive with the chatter of countless businessmen and women. A few minor celebrities and some notable figures of industry were also there partly to add to the grandeur in the press coverage and also draw attention to the event in general. When was the last time he had attended one of these god-forsaken things?

It wasn’t so much an issue with the event itself but the volume of people in attendance. On one hand it was good because it was easier to hide in a large crowd as opposed to a small one but on the other hand, it was also dangerous for exactly that reason. Mitsuhide had thought it before and been proved right. If you want to hide something you do it in plain sight.

His mind wandered back to that event with her. How she looked so shocked and yet how strong she was in her refusal to crumble at that moment. She was scared, he could practically smell it on her but she held her ground and that was intriguing.

Raising his hand absentmindedly to brush the hidden pocket to his tux jacket, the concealed weapon giving a reassuring resistance against the fabric confirming its presence. I can’t be thinking about her now. I have to concentrate. I can’t think about that look in her beautiful blue eyes… how they swam with fear and unshed tears jewel-like before mine… Get a grip Mitsuhide! She is gone. And yet even knowing that, he found his mind wanting to wander that path. Temptation lay in his memories calling out like a siren, a promise of doom but also blissful happiness. It was a balancing act on a knife edge and he would have willingly walked it if only things were different.

“You seem distracted.”

“Mm?” Mitsuhide turned to the man next to him. Nobu had a drink in hand eyes reading the room as if it was some interesting novel. Mitsuhide knew that look. It was one that saw more than you thought and gave away nothing of exactly how much of it was relevant. “I was just considering options.”

“Liar.” A single word and yet the weight of it struck him like a freight train.

“Come again?” Mitsuhide smiled in an attempt to mask his own reaction. Are you for real right now? Have I really become so predictable?

“I called you a liar. You think I cannot see what you have tried to hide from the moment you stepped foot in the venue? I am not blind Mitsuhide nor do I take you to be foolish enough to think me otherwise.” Nobu turned to face him. Meeting smile for smile as he allowed his ruby red gaze to drift over Mitsuhide’s face.

“And if I was distracted?” A small challenging tone entering his voice as Mitsuhide lightly pushed back verbally.

“Then I would hope you realise it and continue to carry out your duty without it causing interference.” The veiled threat in that sentence was not lost on Mitsuhide. “Don’t make me regret calling you back.” Nobu took an elegant sip from his champagne casting his eyes around the room once more.

“Why did you call me back exactly? It's not like this is something outside of your ability to fix.” Mitsuhide knew it wasn’t. After all, Nobu had been the one to construct elegant plans and executed them without the help of anyone. Well, without the “knowing” aid of anyone.

“That may be so but sometimes it takes a specialist to catch a specialist.” Nobu commented with a devilish smirk.

“And you think there is a need for this?” Mitsuhide asked a question that had been on his mind now for a while. Does he know more than he is telling again or are we really fumbling in the dark searching for that stray match that can light our way?

“I am not sure. I cannot deny that the “return” of a trusted employee did not alert me to the level of expertise we might be facing from the other side. As far as how talented or gifted they are I could not say, but...” Nobu turned back towards Mitsuhide a different expression forming on his face from before. “You are my best man. You always did have a flare in this field.” For all his faults Nobu was not such a proud man as to ignore the qualities of another. He still respects me and what I do? I should feel something, but … trust. Trust is not something easily reformed once broken.

“You flatter me.” Mitsuhide scoffed as he too took a glass from the tray a passing waiter. Taking a sip of bubbly alcohol. The sensation of it on his tongue felt bitter even if it was beyond his ability to taste it.

“I don’t. There is no point in such hollow meaningless actions.” The intense gaze of Nobu settled on a pair of new arrivals. Mitsuhide did not miss the almost imperceptible shift in his boss. He’s on guard. No, more than that. He looks like he is relishing some form of calming bliss.

“It appears the other players have entered the arena.” Mitsuhide muttered as he too took in the sight.

The two gentlemen were smartly dressed. The one with dark hair Mitsuhide recognised as the CEO from all the press coverage, Takahiro Yasui. So that would make the pale blonde man standing next to him the right-hand man, Shin Tanaka. It was so nice to finally have faces to put with names.

Smirking to himself he took a swig of his drink, his eyes drawn to Tanaka. Those movements the way he looked around the room, he was not all he seemed. Filing that piece of information away for later exploration Mitsuhide placed his now empty glass on a table. I will uncover your secrets in time.

The right-hand man was dutifully following his boss along the buffet table. Producing a cloth from nowhere like a magician, wiping items of cutlery and tableware before handing them to his boss and requesting some fresh platters of food be brought out from the back. He placed selections of small savouries and sweets on the clean plate meticulously. A set of empty glasses arrived from the back with a new bottle of champagne that was opened by Tanaka himself before pouring the drinks. It was amusing to witness. There is something here that is not like all the others, and you Mr Tanaka are very interesting.

“I have no idea how he can put up with someone acting like that. The pandering and constant…” Nobu began talking but suddenly the words he had died and a flash of realisation played behind his eyes. Oh? I wonder…

“Constant?” Mitsuhide nudged his boss a little to see if he could tease a continuation to that train of thought.

“Never mind. Shall we?” Nobu moved without checking to see if Mitsuhide was following. It seems Dad has worked out a similarity to Mum in the men before them. Maybe not in such extremes.

“After you.” Mitsuhide chuckled as he trailed along behind.

---

The swirling mass of bodies parted like the red sea as Nobu cut his path towards them. Shin noticed the movement first, Takahiro paid little attention to it. It was difficult to tell if he was just being arrogant now or plain reckless. Shin resisted the urge to roll his eyes instead he gave a small surreptitious nudge to his boss in order to draw attention.

“What is it?” Takahiro mumbled as he decided which bitesize morsel on his plate he was going to eat next.

“I believe the Devil is coming to pay you a visit.” Shin responded in a voice barely loud enough to be called a whisper. His words only falling on the man beside him.

“Is he now? Good.” Takahiro drew himself up to full height. The sleek cut of his formal wear fell into line with his figure like finely crafted armour.

“Yasui.”

“Oda.” Takahiro met the level tone of Nobu perfectly. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure. I had no idea that that was your preference.” He jested, flashing a disarming smile over Nobunaga’s shoulder towards Mitsuhide. Mitsuhide simply returned the gesture unperturbed.

“It isn’t. Not that that matters in the slightest to anyone. And even if it was, it would be none of your business either way.” Nobu didn’t flinch at the provocative jab. Instead, he smiled pleasantly and introduced the other guest. “This is Mitsuhide Akechi he is one of my trusted advisors.”

“Is he now?” Takahiro raked his eyes over Mitsuhide in such a way you might have thought he was assessing a good meal. Shin tensed slightly at the motion but it was not an action observed by any of those present. “This is Shin Tanaka he is Head of PR.”

“Charmed.” Nobu gave a small nod towards the ash blonde man. The freezer burn he would have suffered from those blue eyes might have affected him had he been the type of man to allow such things. “There is a matter I’d like to discuss with you. In private.”

“Alright.”

The four men left the main hall and the buzzing chatter behind in search of somewhere more private.

---

The small side room they found on the third floor was currently being used as storage for all the items cleared from the main hall for tonight’s festivities. Stacks of chairs and tables not required lined the walls.

“So… shall we cut the crap?” The door had only just closed when Takahiro spun around asking his question. Dropping all the pleasantries and formality he had shown to this point.

“Mr Yasui.” Tanaka attempted to form a reprimand unsuccessfully. Mitsuhide watched the interaction from by Nobu. Something about you is different Mr Tanaka. Something… familiar.

“Oh, don’t give me that look. We all know why we are here it is a waste of time to pretend otherwise.” Takahiro set his jaw in line with his shoulders as he faced Mitsuhide and Nobunaga.

“How very forward of you. I can’t say I dislike an intelligent fast thinker.” Mitsuhide calmly spoke. His yellow eyes dancing with mirth as he observed the complete switch of the person before him. I guess Tanaka is the only one that might be more guarded. His boss is certainly entertaining, a little rough but still…  

“Indeed. As you say we shall “cut the crap” and get to the point.” Nobu appeared unmoved by the sudden shift in persona. “I would like to propose…”

“Now who is being forward?” Takahiro snorted. You are nothing but a child in adult form, really aren’t you?

“… Propose a merger.” Nobu finished his rudely interrupted sentence flatly.

“You want Esshu Industries to take over Azuchi Corp?” Takahiro let out a hollow laugh.

“No, I want you to join us and put an end to the frivolous open market war.” Nobu to his credit was doing a fine job at hiding his rising frustration and anger.

“Yeah… erm… Nah, not happening.” Takahiro seemed to have reverted into a teenage brat. Leaning forward in his position to be even more aggravatingly arrogant. “Now you look here, Grandpa. I will never sell out and join you. Do you know why? Because you are a washed up has been and this city needs a breath of fresh air to clear out all your stuffy old ideas.” A challenging smirk played on the young man’s face. He looked almost like a wild animal at that moment. It is probably not a good idea to play games with the veteran hunter in the room, my boy.

“For a breath of fresh air, you seem to be spinning a lot of empty words whilst practically declaring your desire to die a painful death.” Nobu was on the edge. His choice of words was the only indication of exactly how close he was to lamping the guy in front of him.

“Think what you will. I have recently acquired something that will ensure I can not only maintain my hold but strengthen it.” Takahiro belayed the threat. Either unaffected by it or unaware of the monster he was playing with.

“That will only happen if you somehow managed to acquire a miracle.” Nobu laughed a joyless mocking laugh.

“Perhaps I did. I have a nice little announcement lined up.” Takahiro appeared to return to business mode. Straightening his cuffs on his shirt as he stood straight again.

“And what is that?” Nobu was still annoyed. The anger in his blood was almost hot enough that Mitsuhide could practically feel it himself. Interesting. It isn’t every day you see Nobu lose his cool.

“Oda you are not the only one that understands timing.” Takahiro gave one last smile before glancing behind himself. “Tanaka? We’re done here.” The two men left the room behind without a single glance back. Timing huh?

---

The morning papers arrived at the reception desk of Azuchi Corp with a thud. There was a copy of every press release in the city for various research reasons. Mitsuhide collected his as he returned from the parking lot after a night drive, he took to clear his head. Sipping on a canned coffee he had grabbed from a vending machine he nearly choked as his eyes fell on the front-page story.

“Rising Star CEO Engagement. – Who is the mystery girl?”

The photo was the typical press released image, but even with the poor grade printing quality, he would have noticed the girl anywhere. He felt a chill freezing him in his core as he looked at it.

“It’s her.”

---

[bahrrss-blog]

DIGITAL PROTOTYPING  Malmö University -2019

DE/RE CONSTRUCT  - 1st of April

De/construct. Promoting our insight into the ongoing course, this task wants us to investigate and "deconstruct" an actual GUI, recognising configuration examples of the interface. Deconstruct phase is followed by reconstruction.

Beginning with the procedure of deconstruction, I started from researching the applications on my phone, seeking around to check whether there are applications with specific capacities that are confounding, hard to enrol naturally, or just inadequately planned. That being stated, telephone applications these days have experienced a lot of cycles and update that most apps are about flawless usefulness astute other than the occasional bugs. I unquestionably experienced serious difficulties finding an application that I had serious issues with. So I decided to avoid confusion this time and go for just any app, giving myself a hard task. That I chose to look at as a challenge rather than an unsolvable problem.

I settled with the application of Instagram. Instagram is a popular application. It is structured is founded on picture sharing. What makes this application emerge is the exceedingly adaptable showcase. You can change the look of your pictures and videos, comment, explore, share, and chat, privately and publicly. In a case of private chate, this feature, probably due to a secondary role for Instagram is very locate.

The fundamental issue I'm having as I utilise this application is that as the primary GUI is made for single communication/share and not to interact.

STUDYING THE STRUCTURE OF INSTAGRAM

I generally end up experiencing considerable difficulties finding and getting to the page where you can see private messages. The application makes it easy to glance through the communities and explore but could be troublesome when you might want to rapidly access chats your friends sent you. 

As an extrovert and someone who likes to communicate, this seems overly complicated for times when talking to people anywhere in the world is free of charge. I attempt to deconstruct in detail Instagram and understand why they have placed direct messages in a place where is hard to find.

These are some of the Instagrams GUI. Here you can five different pages and choose between 5 different functionalities of Instagram. Each display has its purpose. To navigate, to explore, to follow, to add new media, and your own profile.

The main issue with the page I have is, the messaging part. Insofar it is available only on the main page. So not even on your profile, nor any other page of the applications. And, to make even stuff more dislikable for me, there is no even messaging part when the application is accessed from the browser, computer or phone.

The app makes it easy to navigate through all features, such as, follow, like, add a new photo, the main page, or your own profile. However, once you find yourself in any place except on the main page, you can’t see messages being delivered. And, this, in my opinion, can be troublesome, due to a pure fact that messaging is a huge part of social networking.

It is that much complicated that Instagram even made official guidelines on their ‘’how to’’ page. You can see their guidelines on the picture under.

REI found messaging one of, if not the main reason why I use social networks, especially Instagram, it is convenient, retro, and modern way of exploring and sharing, so obstacles like one presented above, strike accords, and that's why I am talking about it. Especially as a Student living abroad, and having friends and families all over the world. I would benefit from facilitated messaging options. I will deconstruct Instagram into details furthermore down in this post. So, stay here around and keep reading.

BREAKING IT DOWN

As you can see on the image, in the right upper corner messages are placed, and on the exact opposite side, down left corner is the home page. (the little house looking alike icon)

Furthermore, I will talk about the Instagram story, in the media presented below, you can notice circles and some of them has a red outline, and some not. The red outline is to show that there is a new story published to buy the user. Once you watched the story (the circle becomes grey and moves away from the top of your notifications)The way to watch someone's story is to just simply press (and hold to pause) on the top of the story. Stories usually can’t be longer than a few seconds, and a maximum number of stories is 100 per day. Each story disappears after 24 hours, with the possibility of being stored on the profile afterwards. It will be available (hidden on the profile, meaning only visible to the owner of that profile for next 12 months, and then it is lost forever)

You can see the stories from the main page, or you can access them also when visiting the page of the person or desired agency.  Also, if you desire to share it outside of Instagram you choose from pressing and choosing the option for three dots in the right corner of the media.

In order to not be too subjective, I have asked some of my colleagues to look into this and give me their honest opinions. I also asked some of my friends who are not familiar with the school project, thinking this way I could avoid bias.

Below is a deconstruction of Instagram with annotations of patterns and functions.

RE/CONSTRUCT

If you look closely to provided re-constructed xd prototype. The icon for messages is located in the bottom grid. Inheritably the bottom grid is fixed on the GUI. Hence, to access the messages will be easy and quick. As explained in deconstruct part, the messages/share feature was placed in multiplied places. Giving the cluttered look and giving a feeling of confusion to users. This design patterns can be blamed on Instagram policies to keep their platform explorative and not based it on messaging. It can be argued that Facebook came to a similar problematics, which Facebook solved by creating separate app only for messaging, But this caused the decrease of usage of the main Facebook overall. However my improved design look is minimal, it would not cause major division between messaging and sharing content on Instagram. On the contrary, it would facilitate the usage of both features.

User testing

In user testing, the general feedback I got is can be summed in three words. ´´Oh, THANK GOD´´ what users meant to say was: someone else is also feeling the same way, Some of the users mentioned that they use Instagram as calling app, video calling app. Instagram has incorporated video and voice calling together with iOS and Android, so when someone is calling on Instagram, feels like you are getting regular phone calls. Furthermore, accessing to the deaths of this calls is a bit harder. Because of the issue mentioned previously. Thus having messaging (which is call and video call) feature display on the main GUI of Instagram on the bottom fixed grid, seemed as change worth changing.

Analysis

When starting this project, I wanted to focus only on a rather overall redesign than touching only some visual design patterns. Like messaging feature. However, the visual design does have a big impact on user experience. For the above solutions, I wanted to show how small changes can make a big impact.

The patterns, as far for the control that Instagram induces, is hard to notice. Mainly because announcements are very well integrated, it is hard to distinguish them from real person posts. It is, however, a typical iOS application pattern. It is very well adjusted with adds.

Instagram has an integrated variety of shapes in its design. Rounded, and squared icons.

The font used on Instagram is: Roboto is used along with Freight on Android. The Instagram website uses Proxima Nova for all text with Neue Helvetica and iOS Freight Sans.

On Instagram, when uploading a photo the design pattern of carousels can be noticed. You can scroll between pictures to select as many as it is allowed to upload.

This is the noticeable design patterns, I was also when user testing attempting to found more of them, but I couldn’t notice. I would need to do an in-depth analysis to find more, or maybe with any new updates of design, the new pattern will appear. Sometimes also, when we are to dwell into deconstructing.

BEYOND THE NORM - 15th of April

Questions: 

What is the speculative approach? What is the critical design? How to relate this to interaction design? Should we, as designers, ignore issues of the world? Should we, as citizens, be satisfied with the world we have?

How can a designer play a role in engaging with the world most critical issues?

Check out the video called Technological Dreams Series No. 1, Robots Dunne & Raby, 2007. It talks about interactive experiences. This video has no voice-over, explaining but clearly explain the power roles that we have over the objects. 

https://vimeo.com/2611597

Critical design is rather about asking a question than finding solutions or looking for the problems.

Answers:

Rather than finding a solution to current life problems, Critical design offers a step into the future and gives us feedback about where should we go further. Critical design tests wander and explore with ideas in a rather than unconventional way. Their exploration can be understood as something between reality and impossible. There is an attempt of drawing distinction between affirmative design (design that reinforces the status quo) and Critical Design - design that rejects how things are now as being the only possibility, it provides a critique of the prevailing situation through designs that embody alternative social, cultural and technical, or economic value (Dunne and Raby 2001)

Manifesto of the Critical Design: Design as a medium, asks, questions, social fiction, parallel worlds, functional fictions etc.

Is it even needed? Do we need art in design? Positive critique is that is pushing boundaries that might result in positive changes. Negative critique is that this type of design is just trying to make some noize and that we don’t really don’t need this design.

What to be thoughtful about is that critical design creates a space for critique.

Thoughtful design is taking into perspective, projecting scenarios and establishing the use of emerging things. Discursive design is distinguishing design field, commercial, experimental, and discursive design. What is essential in design fiction is that the object fits into its surroundings.

Relation of these designs to #IXD 

Prototypes are tenuous, material and experienceable. Prototyping is aligned in order for situations to be understood. 

Issues with Critical Design, it is very hard to know you are on the right path. We don’t know if we are doing a good or bad job. 

In a short conclusion: Critical Desing is here to provoke, to question, to change values, to challenge the status quo, do it with great care if you adopt the techniques of critical design.

Adobe XD tutorials

Learning XD in detail has its advantages. Basic functions sometimes are not enough, it is quite a time saving when you know where something is located. Most of the things we learned in the first Adobe tutorial, I have already been familiar with, but haven’t really used them so much. For example, doing animation with xd was valuable insights. We were wireframing the news app. We created load screens, and the screens were supposed to give feedback. And the feedback was load time. I find this very funny, in times when 5G networks are to be implemented.

We created only a few screens and made the animations. But, it is interesting how this animation would look like for enormous news apps, that contain thousands of information and it is updated literally every minute. I guess this information tells how important this trick was when designing an app.

If you look closely you can see that the small dots under the titles are not all the same for each screen. This, when using the app would give the impression of time passing.

Furthermore, learning about wireframing tools, was also valuable. The thing is not only learning is enough, but this skill also has to be practised and put to use. We used already made screens, in my opinion, it is a bit limiting the creativity of the designer, but on the other hand, the time-saving aspect has to be taken into consideration. It would take much longer to make these screens from scratch. Hereunder you can see some screen I made during the XD workshop.

ANALYTICS EXERCISE  -23d April 2019

After an in-depth exploration of Google merchandise store, there are few design suggestions that I could recommend for googles improvement in sales. Right under you can see chars that are visualising backing up my argumentations.

If we look closely to these numbers under. There is an enormous differentiation between mobile users and desktop users. It is certain there today in mobile purchases are common and becoming the main way of using the internet, also purchases.

This makes sense in many ways because mobile phones are always in our pockets, and we reach for mobile more often then we do with our laptops.  So, I am raising the question about this issue, since Google merchandise store, has more visits from their desktop site.

Overall desktop visits are around 51 000 visits, where on phone it is only around 16000 visits.

This data, made me go and look at the mobile site of the store, and here I have found several design changes that can be applied. This, in my opinion, would give the store market standard, and boost mobile visits. Let take a look at the mobile site (check the media under). There we can see a variety of information hidden, behind the same icon. There are cluttered and not even necessary because all of the information this icon contain can be placed within one icon, or simply displayed on its own. The number of items purchased can be placed on the basked. And the icon next to towards left can be eliminated, or unified with the same icon under.

In conclusion, the site is clean from announcements, which gives it a peaceful place to do your shopping. Adding these small changes would make a site mobile friendly and it would boost visits and purchases made through the phone.

Digital Prototyping -  How do speculative approaches reveal qualities of digital prototyping practice, and what are these important qualities?

To begin with, I can mention that speculative design process requires definitely more than one iteration. In my opinion, there is a need for researching the topic of choice from different angels. To understand the complexity of the design opportunity. It is practically a necessity to deconstruct the science behind the design opportunity.

In this course, the topic was drowned from the perspective of the UN sustainable goals. The pros of having to work with information like this is that is a very well researched topic. Easily accessible information online, multiple sources. All of this facilitates the process of speculation.

On the other hand, I will argue that this limits the creative process. Which many would agree, is necessary for any good speculative design process.

However, since this was the first project of speculative design, having predefined filed of work, can be taken as beneficial, then disadvantageous

Furthermore, if we would attempt to answer the following question: How speculative design is relevant to prototyping experiences in general? We can argue that relevance depends on the design aim. In this project, there was a necessity to use previously acquired prototyping skills, but the context was directed towards, information, visualising or grabbing attention overall. To achieve this our prototyping practice needed the help us come up with this design. I would argue that it help to understand speculation in design, but not to the point where the speculation was entirely clear.

For instance, the design process that my group was undertaking in this course, was clearly divided into two major ideas. Where the first idea, was a bad attempt to speculate, and a rather good attempt to solve the problems. Prototyping wasn't contributing much. On the contrary, on the second interaction, when the ideas were considered quite speculative, prototyping, especially using digital tools (such as xd) made the project harder. This is due to the fact that the initial ideas needed to be transferred to visual aspects. Thus, everything seems as constrained. With each small design implementation, the idea of speculation seemed losing its value.

Conclusively, it is worth considering, in future speculative design practices. that the prototyping practices can be arguably big constraint to the speculative design process.

To relate just argued pros and cons of the mentioned topic to the question of this essay (How do speculative approaches reveal qualities of digital prototyping practice, and what are these important qualities?) I can say the digital prototyping has visual aspects as support. Meaning, the tools digital prototyping uses are dependent by the large scale on the visual aspect. Whether we use video or just images. Having said this, and taking into consideration the complexity of the speculative design. Digital prototyping can serve to clarify this complex nature of this form of design.

To wrap up this thought, I can say, the visual aspect is (if well made) self-explanatory, and overall easy to understand (compared to other expensive mediums) therefore, this characteristic of digital prototyping can serve as an advantage when used in speculative design.

However, there are other qualities of digital prototyping that speculative design can reveal. For instance, these qualities can be reviled depending on which angle we are observing digital prototyping. If we looked at it from the perspective of humans needs, then we have to understand that people seek influence over their environments, and digital technology has traditionally extended possibilities to extend knowledge and control (Gaver & Martin, 2000).

There are examples where just simple machine intelligence was used to arranged and to shape birds' behaviour, by approximating a target tune for birds singing. This allowed could allow the different birds to be trained to take different harmonic roles in an overall composition. Hence, digital prototyping can give a man much more than even imaginable at first glance. We can argue that digital prototyping practice could allow people to extend control to the very wildlife and navigate the future of   (wilderness and of nature) simply uncontrollable. Another example can be given from this course speculative design project. The project Swipe Dream, developed with my classmates, held in itself speculative understanding of the UN sustainable goal number 17. Partnership for goals. Swipe dream places serious manners such as development and many flows from developed to developing world, by using modern dating environment such as tinder. There is no-the less controversy in this project. But, it proves the point that speculative design allows (with use of digital prototyping) us to see important questions in another light, thus illuminating problematics, that otherwise would pass unnoticed.

Furthermore, when the design is used to ends that are provocative,  we are bridging and constructing things. We are also telling stories through objects, which become effectively conversation pieces in  a  very  real  and  persuasive  sense.  Through the projection of design scenarios, design fictions, and narratives of use, the designer as storyteller shifts focuses beyond efficient use, to embrace uncertainty, interpretation and meaning (Malpass, 2016).

It can be argued that speculative design holds immense importance for society. It pushes the boundaries from what we know already. It teaches us new perspectives on the stuff that are already around us. It gives purpose to things that presumably are useless. I connect us with objects around us and allows us to create better futures. Speculatively, digital prototyping shines the most in my opinion when using storytelling through film and images. And when mediums for expression is mixed. Her plays important roles in the ambiguity,

Furthermore, when prototyping in relation to the digital world, if we position design as an effective medium with the intent to construct public and engage user audiences by questioning conditions in everyday life. We need a powerful perspective for the user to understand our points. We need to achieve this critical perspective of the user or observer.Here is when digital prototyping can show it’s powered. If done correctly and with huge dedication, we as a designer can affect the direction where our society is going.

Design can push furthermore from orthodox way of thinking. If we manage to encourage the user to interpret the object, we put the user in a role that opens up for exploration, reflection and engagement. And, is it even necessary to explain how important is for every individual to fully engage in explorations of their own lives.

Conclusively, we can argue that there are multiple design approaches when it comes to speculative design. Firstly the combinations of disciplines. Design can be related to art, architecture or even philosophy. But, due to a necessity for clarity and simplicity, to my knowledge, we can narrow down speculative approaches in at least three different ones. The first sees designers reflecting on and critically questioning design practice. In this course, it was a digital prototyping design practice. Also, the second approach is based on re-thinking the design discipline. For example, rethinking if the digital prototyping is the best approach to explain certain problematics, or would is politics the best place to express concern about climate change, and so on.  When we are talking about politics, to my knowledge and from what literature supporting this paper is indicating, one of the approaches of speculative design could actually be related to the overall importance of this speculation and design for society. Nonetheless, it is important to see the speculative design more as a discursive practice, based on critical thinking and dialogue, which questions the practice of design than to try to select and eliminate this practice in any other way (Malpass, 2016).

On the other hand, digital prototyping practice in too many ways can be a limitation in the ability to explore possible futures. We are all explorer, and the medium we use matters.  Different strategic approaches are both desirable and necessary to achieve the best results possible in the process of exploration.

Digital prototyping is a way of thinking and expressing. It is certainly no so different from physical prototyping. But none the less, the experience digital prototyping can create, might interfere with how we think of our future and how we as mankind will continue to go about our lives. Yes, I argue of the benefits of digital prototyping, but however good and beneficial this prototyping is, it will never bring better results than feedbacks that real users give us.

In conclusion, it can be stated that digital prototyping together with the speculative design is of big importance, it gives us a modern perspective of ourselves and of the context we found ourselves in.

Literature

Gaver, B., & Martin, H. (2000). Alternatives. Proceedings of the SIGCHI Conference on Human Factors in Computing Systems - CHI ’00. https://doi.org/10.1145/332040.332433

Malpass, M. (2016). Critical Design Practice: Theoretical Perspectives and Methods of Engagement. The Design Journal. https://doi.org/10.1080/14606925.2016.1161943