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ask-de-writer · 5 years ago

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DARING DO and the ADVENTURE of the X'IBIAN VASE! : MLP Fan Fiction : Part 3 of 21

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DARING DO and the

ADVENTURE of the X'IBIAN VASE!

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck) @ask-de-writer

And

Carmen Pondiego @askcarmenpondiego

Cover Art by

Doctor Dimension

52630 words

Writing begun 08/26/15

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Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights. They may reblog the story. They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions, provided that such things are done without charge. I will allow those who do commission art works to charge for their images.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fictions is actively encouraged.

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Steeling herself, she approached the entrance. As the black glass doors opened, they revealed a confidant looking khaki colored unicorn mare dressed in a stylish, near form fitting red outfit. Carmen Pondiego. Her true mother.

Carmen smiled that sideways smile that she always used when she was about to pull Daring Do’s chain by calling her by her birth name. Daring Do beat her to it.

“Adora hasn’t been home in a long time, Mother. Things have changed a lot. You really meant that about hiding in the open, didn’t you?”

Carmen’s mouth dropped open. Feeling behind her for support, Carmen settled into one of the comfortable overstuffed leather chairs in the VILE foyer.

Softly, she replied, “Yes, dear. I did mean it.” She took a shaking breath and added, “You are in time for the lasagna. I remember how much you used to enjoy it, Adora.”

Daring Do nodded and sat on the arm of the chair. “I did, mom. I still do. I don’t order it often … It reminds me of you.

“I am going to admit that I am really conflicted about the name … and you … and VILE. It is hard but I am here.” She reached down and took Carmen’s hoof.

They sat in silence for several minutes. “Mother, I am not going to ask you for forgiveness. There is too much that I have not forgiven yet.”

Carmen patted the hoof of her estranged daughter and said, “I do understand, Adora. At least you are here and letting me call you by the name that I gave you. That is a first step. I hope, one of many.”

Daring Do nodded slowly. In the Chineighese of Cantron she quoted the proverb, “The journey of a thousand Li begins with a single step.”

Without hesitation, Carmen replied in the same language, “Whether the journey be a thousand Li or a thousand of thousands, the welcoming door of home is the best place for it to end.”

Taking a deep breath, Carmen suggested, “Let’s go see if the lasagna is ready! I had it out, cooling.”

“Now that is something that I hoped you would say, mother.”

They wended their way through the maze of the big building. As they made yet another zig, Daring Do reflected that the Canterlot HQ of VILE was not the biggest nor most impressive of her mother’s organizational HQs. The true nerve center of VILE was the enormous floating island.

They finally entered a comfortable common room with a nice but not fancy dining table and chairs. It was pretty big, which made sense. The whole family was there. Daring Do’s biological father, the alicorn Baron Von Nighthoof sat at one end of the table, space for her mother at the OTHER end showed that they were on the “outs” romantically … Again.

She and her step brother Blendin were next to each other at Carmen’s end of the table. Her Uncle Marehem, or M for short, was down at the end by the Baron. Next to him, at Carmen’s end was Kiros. Technically, Kiros was not family, the others were some form of pony, or at least passing themselves off as one. Kiros was a wolf hybrid with wings. M was a changeling even if he was also Daring Do’s uncle.

This was the only part of VILE that Daring Do could accept, even marginally. Family. And she knew what was coming besides lasagna. Snark.

She was just reaching for her first big slab of some of the best lasagna in Canterlot when she felt it. Virtually by reflex, Daring Do slammed an elbow back just above her saddle bag at the same time that she made a grab with her other hoof as she spun about. The move nailed her half brother Blendin, with her map only half out of her bag.

Smiling sweetly she said, “Be glad that you are family, Blendin. I use the hoof of the last pony to try that as a paperweight!”

Ignoring the comment, which Blendin knew to be perfectly true, he finished removing the map. “Why would you have one of these cheap five silver X'ibian site maps?”

He spread it out and his jaw dropped. “This is the original that you made when you were searching for the Darkling’s Tomb!

“Now it really makes no sense at all! Why did you put that red X on top of Hong Wa? Do you want me to remove it? It is a really simple bit of Librarian’s Magic?”

Daring Do laid a gentle hoof over Blendin’s and said, “No, Blendin. Thank you for the offer but that has become a delightful keepsake to the stupidity of ponies. They broke into my office at the RU and STOLE this. They also broke many of the figurines of the Royal Darkling Collection being kept for study in my office.”

Baron Von Nighthoof’s brows almost hit his horn, they went up so far. He clicked on the big Magic Net mirror for the evening news! The story was not hard to locate.

“Agnes Wordspreader here with This Just IN! Three divisions of the the Royal Guards, the Royal Heavy Armored Infantry and the Royal Armored Pegassi were mobilized today in DOWNTOWN Canterlot! They surrounded the building of the lawfirm Robber, Overthrow, and Tyranny for a short while.

“When the Royal Negotiator emerged, she appeared to be none other than the world famous Antiquities Expert, Daring Do. She spoke briefly with the Commander of the Royal Armored Infantry who, along with the rest of the military and Guard units, then withdrew.”

There were many pictures of the action, including Daring Do emerging from the R.O.T building.

Carmen, a bemused look on her face, pointed her horn at Daring Do and asked, “What were they looking for in your office, Adora, Darling?”

Wincing at the name, Daring Do ate a fork full of her mother’s absolutely heavenly lasagna before speaking. “They expected to find the location of the tomb of Im Farst. That X on the map? It is the EXACT location of it!

“All that I have to do is go to the Necropolis,�� Daring raised her eyebrows and made a fair imitation of Tyranny’s voice as she added, “That’s like a graveyard, locate the appropriate tomb and dig it up!”

Blendin, like all the others around the table, was giggling so hard that it was difficult to speak. At last he got out, “The only thing that could make that funnier would be if the 'IT’ that they want is the Heart of Discord!”

In a swiftly planned tactical strike, Daring Do said, “It IS! They do want the Heart of Discord!”

As the whole table exploded in laughter, Daring Do craftily snagged the last two pieces of lasagna.

Uncle M was wiping tears from his eyes and commenting, “I blew lasagna out my nose!”

Sounding almost innocent, Daring Do offered, “Uncle M, I have something else here for your amusement!” She hoofed over the folded sheets of R.O.T.’s offer.

M unfolded them and nearly choked. Tears of joy in his eyes, he implored, “May I make a copy of this? At Allstable we make custom policies all the time. Some of this is the finest pure legal worm slime that I have ever read! Really good stuff!

“There is no way that you can win with this. Even if you fulfill all the terms, the whole expedition cost to them is to be deducted from your payment. You could end up owing R.O.T. thousands in gold.”

Daring Do smiled around her latest forkful of lasagna and swallowed. “Feel free to copy it, M. What I need from you is a copy that actually says what this one purports to.”

M grinned and promised, “Piece of Lasagna, Adora … My seconds! You are eating my seconds!”

Carmen smiled. “That gives you more room for the frozen Pomegranate Gelatto that I fixed for dessert.”

Relaxing with a few candied figs to fill up corners, Daring Do asked, “How did the bidding go for the Golden Necklace of Pharow Underrock?”

Carmen leaned back in a comfortably padded chair and steepled her hooves. “We really only had a little time, Adora. we could do better with more time. The best that I could do on short notice was 1.5 million golden bits.”

She pointed an admonitiory hoof and went on, “THAT is BEFORE V.I.L.E.’s 20% cut. That leaves 1.2 million for you. The money can be deposited in your Equestrian National account by noon tomorrow, if that is satisfactory to you?”

Daring Do nodded, “The money is quite satisfactory. Thank you. I did mention that I had a concern about where the necklace was going. What will happen to it?”

Carmen’s grin was huge. “Our buyer has a project that needs a Royal sanction. He will gift the necklace to Princess Luna for immediate permanent display in the Royal Museum with proper provenance and finder’s credit!”

Her own grin almost as wide as her mother’s at the neatly done cutting out of the Acquisition Committee and Count Umber, Daring Do handed over the simple but perfect wooden case of unmistakable Rom workmanship. Carmen opened it reverently. Her drawn breath was ample reward, really. Daring Do knew that sound and expression on her mother’s face since infancy.

Baron Von Nighthoof leaned over to see it and suggested, “We could duplicate that. Honor requires that the original be given as promised. I can think of no neck in all of Equestria that such a copy would grace better than your own, Carmen.”

Daring Do knew that all would be done as promised. Her mother would kill before breaking the trust of her family. She discreetly took her leave.

The next morning, Daring Do emerged from her room at the Adventurer’s Guild and took a refreshing dip in the Guild’s pool and a quick workout in the gym, followed by a few assorted practice workouts in the projectile weapons range.

Her appetite whetted by the light workout, she sat in the Guild’s dining room and ordered a modest breakfast. The waiter who brought it was familiar. She stopped him and said in X'ibian, “Listening to those with whom you disagree is the first step on the journey of understanding.

“I have listened with care to those whom you and I agree are evil. Now I wish to learn all that you will share. It is clear that you know much more than you have said.”

The waiter stared carefully about before he bowed a formal Eastern bow and replied in X'ibian, “You are most observant. You are also correct. Sadly, most of what I wish to tell is proscribed by ancient oaths.

“I will tell you this. We would far sooner trust you to seek that ancient thing than any other. We know that you will treat where it lies with the respect that is due to our ancient land. Not even we know where it lies any longer.

The Chineighese invasion and conquest a thousand years past destroyed many scholars and their libraries. The hidden location of the tomb of Im Farst was lost and has not been refound.”

Daring Do nodded thoughtfully and divided her bowl of mixed fruits with him. “Share with me the meal of friendship.

“I seek no harm to any ancient thing. I try to find what is lost and restore it to living memory. Sadly, some things need to stay lost but NEVER destroyed. I have provision made for that eventuality.”

He sat and ate his portion while Daring Do ate hers. She divided her Alfalfa Waffle with him too.

Now deeply puzzled, she returned to the building of the R.O.T. lawfirm. Greeting Horsetense, she spoke cheerfully, “I have the expedition agreement ready for the signatures of the partners!”

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#DARING DO AND THE ADVENTURE OF THE X'IBIAN VASE #Part 3 of 21 #MLP Fan Fiction #Written by De Writer and Carmen Pondiego

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creativitytoexplore · 4 years ago

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Don Juan and the Runaway Knight by Phyllis Houseman https://ift.tt/338nvih Linda, feeling abandoned by her husband and children, flees for a holiday in Ecuador, where she has an unexpected encounter; by Phyllis Houseman.

Well, Linda, you've gone four thousand miles south, and sixteen years into the past - pretty good for a novice fugitive. The tall, slender woman smiled at the wry thought as she stepped off the plane's ramp onto tropically hot concrete. Breathing deeply in the thin air, Linda instantly identified pine, a mix of exotic flowers, and dust. Even if she had been blindfolded, her nose would have told her she had landed in Quito, the capital of Ecuador, the symbol of her carefree youth. As she looked toward the city, Linda felt a stab of dismay. Quito had changed. There were high-rise buildings everywhere, almost obliterating the umber-tiled roofs and white-capped volcanoes she had captured on slides so long ago. Dampening down her sense of disappointment, Linda walked into the terminal. When her turn came in the Aduana, the Customs officer inspected her papers. Amazingly, the Ecuadorian consulate in San Francisco had re-approved her visa in less than a day. She had explained that now she would be going alone on this long-awaited South American vacation - the trip John had backed out of last week. Linda was even able to get a low-priced, no-wait plane ticket - thanks to the current industry price war. Since the money had originally come from her teaching salary, she felt absolutely no guilt about raiding the account yesterday. She needed this vacation. She had weathered months of upheaval. There was only so much a person could take. Linda had tried to be understanding about John's position as a newly transferred employee, however, it hurt that instead of spending a wonderful week in Ecuador with her, he had taken off on yet another open-ended business trip. A little feminine sympathy from one of her friends might have helped, but everyone she knew lived on the East Coast, three-thousand miles away from her new home near San Francisco. It was a potentially beautiful house, but three weeks after moving into it, confusion still reigned. The dust raised by an overzealous landscaping bulldozer covered every surface. Linda's camp-bound twelve-year-old twins had pulled out most of the clothing and games they owned, trying to decide what to include in their duffel bags. Camp had seemed the perfect solution for the homesick boys. Linda hadn't been prepared for the numbing loneliness their departure brought. It was then that she had decided to fly to Ecuador. "Is this your first visit to our country, Señora Knight?" The Customs man's polite question cut into Linda's thoughts. "Uh - no, I worked here as a Peace Corps Volunteer for two years," she murmured. "Espero que su estancia en nuestro país sea tan buena que no quiera irse." "Ah - er - that is, gracias." She gave trying to translate the rapid flow of words. Something about enjoying her stay so much, she would never want to leave. Obviously, all the Spanish-language soap operas she had watched on television recently hadn't been enough to regain her old fluency. Linda gathered her belongings, then went in search of a taxi.

The small, third-floor room of the Pension Suiza was freezing when Linda awoke the next morning. She automatically reached for John's warm, solid body, finding only the cold, squishy comfort of a goose down pillow. Punching that inadequate substitute into submission, Linda leaned back, savoring the architecture of the gabled bedroom. The gingerbread on the window might be ersatz Swiss Chalet, but the magnificent view it framed was genuine Ecuadorian. The sun had just begun its run down the eastern flanks of patchworked Pichincha. Like a spotlight, it revealed the civilized earthen squares thrifty Ecuadorian farmers had tilled into the steep sides of the dormant volcano Yawning widely to get more of the thin air into her lungs, Linda pulled the plump feather bed quilt up to the tip of her cold nose. She watched the golden line that separated dawn and day inch down the mountainside, until the raucous cry of a morning bird jarred her from a semi-trance. Forty-five minutes later, she had showered, dressed, and was on her way to the reception desk to turn in her key. She also wanted to find out when a bus to the equatorial monument would be leaving. Manager Señor Velasquez was busy processing an early arrival. A huge potted weeping fig tree hid most of the newcomer from Linda's view. All she could see of him was a broad shoulder in a suede jacket as the bent over the registry book. Then hearing the man's soft, gravelly burr suddenly made her wish she had picked some other place to spend the night - some other country to visit. She must have made some sort of sound for the manager turned toward her. "Ah, good morning, Señora Knight. I'll be with you in just a moment." Linda was about to back away from the edge of the desk. Her intention, to slide around a nearby corner into the hallway leading outside. With nightmarish predictability, before she could take a step, the tall man leaned around the fig tree, fixing dark eyes upon her face. With all her senses shouting "DANGER," Linda wanted to run. Yet, she couldn't move; she couldn't take her eyes off his compelling face. Constructed of sharp angles, his features had a manly beauty that had nothing to do with handsomeness, everything to do with masculine strength. As Linda stood there, staring, his gaze intensified. In an encompassing sweep, dark eyes caressed the shoulder-length fall of her ash-blond hair, then traveled down her slender body. Linda shook off her paralysis, stalking toward him, ready to protest the embarrassing visual evaluation. Her rage was abruptly neutralized when a wide smile revealed strong, white teeth. Before she could recover from that powerful grin, its owner turned to the entranced clerk, demanding, "Señor Velasquez, I would be honored if you could present me to your lovely guest." The opened-mouthed employee stood for long seconds before he nodded, beamed a gold-accented smile, and made the introduction. "Señora Knight, it is my pleasure to present to you Don Juan Caballero del Rey, a valued executive with, ah -" He looked at the register. "- with International Computers." His bald head bobbed between Linda and Don Juan. "Señor, allow me to acquaint you with the Señora Linda Knight." Forgetting the angry words she had planned, Linda played back the introduction, her mind bemused. Mulling over the surname, she tried to translate it. Something like 'Gentleman of the King'? Playing along, she inclined her head, murmuring, "Encantada, Señor Caballero del Rey." "El placer es mío, Señora." The sudden rumbling of Don Juan's stomach completely ruined his aura of suave sophistication. "I've been flying all night. I guess my stomach just caught up with the rest of me. Come, Señora Knight, please join me for breakfast." He held out his hand to her. Linda stared at those beckoning fingers, torn between preserving her matronly dignity in front of the avid manager, and wanting to know just what was going on here. She found her eyes focusing on the wink of gold on Don Juan's left hand. "What would Mrs. Caballero del Rey say about you having breakfast with me?" "Well, after fifteen years of marriage, she must know how much I love her - too much to let anything ruin our relationship." He indicated the wide band on her own marriage finger. "Señora, you must feel the same way about your husband." Linda forced herself to look into that dark gaze. "Of course. Having breakfast with you can't possibly do any harm to my marriage - such as it is." "Such as it is?" Don Juan echoed softly. Before Linda could respond, Señor Velasquez appeared at her side. "Señora, Senor, the dining room is open. Let me have the honor of escorting you to our best table. It has a magnificent view of Vulcán Pichincha. You must see it up close, and El Panecillo -" He listed several tourist attractions as he shepherded the pair into the adjoining room. "We'll have Naranjilla juice with croissants and Café con leche," Don Juan informed the waiter who instantly appeared as they sat down. "Señor Caballero del Rey," Linda chided, almost choking on that surname. "You're supposed to let me order for myself, or at least ask me what I want." "Ah, Señora Knight, I'm so sorry. It's just that my wife used to live in South America. She's raved about Naranjilla juice and the Ecuadorian style of coffee. They boil the beans down into a thick essence, then add hot milk," he explained. "I'll call the waiter back." "Ah - now that you mention it, what you ordered is fine," Linda recanted. She had suddenly remembered the piquant, frothy green drink and the rich Ecuadorian brew. When the juice arrived, Linda took a tentative sip. A sigh of bliss escaped her lips. Her breakfast companion chuckled. "Well, it is wonderful," she challenged. "Of course, it is. I can always rely on my wife's taste in food, drink, music -" He looked around, focusing on the empty platform at the end of the dining room. "Shoot! That's just what we needed with our breakfast - romantic Latin music. Too bad it's so early; the band probably plays only at dinner." "That's right," the eavesdropping waiter agreed, as he turned from serving the next table. "A magnificent three-piece band plays the latest American hits from eight to eleven." "Never in the morning?" Don Juan asked. The waiter shook his head. "What about CDs - a radio?" The employee looked more and more downcast as he denied each suggestion. Don Juan shrugged his shoulders. "I'm sorry, it would have been -" "There is Miguel," the waiter interrupted. "Miguel?" "Yes, he's only a dishwasher, but he plays the guitar. He's been begging the manager to let him try out for the evening show. Maybe - no, I might get in trouble -" "Just tell them I insisted," Don Juan coaxed. A thousand sucre bill appeared on the table. The waiter looked at it longingly, weighing rewards and consequences. He abruptly took the money, making for the kitchen. Before the swinging doors stopped flapping, a short, slender teenager appeared. He clutched the neck of a battered guitar under his arm, wiping his hands on a damp apron. The grin of delight on his face was so endearing, Linda felt her eyes sting. Bowing to his unexpected audience, the dishwasher put one leg on the seat of a chair, tested the tuning of his instrument, then broke into a boastful song Linda remembered from her Peace Corps days. "Yo soy el chullito Quiteño. La vida lo paso encantado. Para mi ella es un sueño. ¡No hay mujeres en el mundo como las de mi canción!" "I am a proud man of Quito. Life passes enchantedly. For me, it's a dream. There are no women in the world, like those in my song!" Linda found herself murmuring the translation. Without waiting for applause the novice entertainer changed moods, beginning a sad, sensual melody that pledged passion and undying love. The music generated sympathetic vibrations in Linda's body. Although she tried not to look at Don Juan, she felt her eyes being pulled toward the man. He watched her, not the singer. His gaze was assessing, serious. Linda couldn't move, her sea-blue eyes were entrapped by his deep brown irises. Long, soul-searching seconds passed. Applause from the other diners broke the hypnotic power of those eyes. Don Juan seemed equally startled by the clapping. Shaking his head, he turned away from Linda, beckoning to the young troubadour. The dishwasher shyly accepted the verbal and financial praise they both gave him for his impromptu performance. The dining room settled back to the business of eating breakfast. Don Juan didn't touch the rest of his meal. He just sat there, looking at Linda. Several opening gambits ran through her head. She finally blurted, "That was a marvelous gesture, Señor Caballero del Rey, thank you for an unforgettable treat." "It was my pleasure - with an ulterior motive." His penetrating gaze speared Linda's complete attention. "In return for the musical interlude, I expect you to end this - this formality. Let me call you Linda," he demanded. He pronounced "Linda" with just a hint of Latin caress. A broad grin stretched his generous mouth. "You must call me -" "Don Juan?" Linda interposed. "- Well, OK, I'll accept Juan, for the time being, cara mia." "Now, don't push your luck," Linda warned, her body stiffening at the endearment. "I wouldn't want to do that." Then, as if striving to reestablish the genial atmosphere, he changed the subject. "So, Linda, what brings you to Ecuador?" It was a casual question. It would require such a complex answer. Linda looked at him, trying to decide if she wanted to open up to this man. If she did, what was most important? The move? The twins' reaction to it? The canceled trip? "I guess I came to Ecuador to get a breather," she said. "We just moved into a new state. John, my husband, was transferred. His promotion involves constant traveling, so I've been left alone to deal with two unhappy children, a house that's a mess, a thousand minor decisions -" Linda stopped, aghast at the bitterness of her tone. "Sounds like he dumped a lot on your head," Don Juan ventured. "Yes - no, oh, I don't know. He was supposed to be here on this trip - a second honeymoon. Then, he had to cope with some customer emergency," she admitted. "I can't blame him for that. But when the kids went off to camp, well, I just decided I needed to get away. You must think that was wrong of me, Don Juan." Linda's voice had a waver in it she tried to control. "No, Linda, I don't. I'm sure your husband understands how angry you must have felt." Long-fingered hands reached across the table, ready to provide comfort. Not able to accept it, Linda jerked her hands away. "Just why are you here, Don Juan?" "Business - very important business." "Of course, what else? Well, I won't keep you. I'm sure your clients are waiting. I've got a lot of sightseeing to do this morning." She rose, unconsciously extending her hand as a polite South American would. He took the offered hand. Instead of a pro forma squeeze, Juan brushed the tips of her fingers with his lips before letting it go. "Linda." Soft, husky seduction. "Linda, let me join you. My - my wife has told me so much about this beautiful country. Where are you going today?" A myriad of conflicting emotions battled in Linda's mind. Oh, she was very tempted to go sightseeing with this beguiling stranger, who reminded her so much of Johnny. Johnny, the carefree young man she had married. Johnny, who had climbed the corporate ladder, transforming into serious, preoccupied John. Distant, elusive John. This man was warm, funny, gorgeous - so tempting. Perhaps going on an innocuous sightseeing trip with Don Juan was just what she needed. "I'm taking a bus to the monument on the equator, and - you're welcome to come along." "Terrific! We don't have to take a bus, I've a rental. It comes with a complete set of maps, so you can be the navigator." Linda couldn't help laughing. "Don Juan, I have to warn you. My family and friends all know I get lost going to the supermarket." Linda wasn't trying to get out of the trip. She couldn't back out now, not when the devil sparked glints of humor out of those compelling eyes. Not when his lean face was so relaxed, so attractive.

It took a half hour for them to get out of the city. Once they got on the Pan American Highway, there was little navigating for Linda to do. It was the only road that followed the high basin dividing the two cordilleras of the Andes. After a while, guardrails disappeared. There were just buffering earthen banks that often fell away, leaving their little car clinging to bare mountainside, thousands of feet above meandering river ribbons. When Linda slid next to Juan's sturdy body, he asked through clenched teeth, "How much further to the monument?" For the first time, Linda could see he was as nervous as she was. His knuckles gleamed white on the steering wheel. "About six miles, according to the map," she said, trying not to look over the edge as they rounded a sharp curve. "My God, I don't understand how people can drive on this highway every day!" "I know how you feel," her companion admitted. "For the last half hour, I've been sending up prayers for every denomination I could think of." He laughed. The rich sound curved around the low ceiling of the car, wrapping Linda in a sudden cloak of security. "Juan." She laid a light hand on his arm. "I have a feeling Someone up there already heard you, you're doing just fine." Her faith in his driving appeared to relax him. Broad shoulders settled back against the seat. Smiling at Linda, Juan fiddled with the radio until the lyric chords of a pasillo filled the small car. They found the equatorial monument twenty minutes later. At the stone obelisk, Juan took Linda's camera, asking an obliging Japanese tourist to snap a picture of them straddling the line dividing the hemispheres. Juan slid his arm around Linda's shoulders at the last instant. She looked up at him, not knowing that what she was feeling escaped her eyes, being captured for posterity on the film. Linda was startled when she felt a shudder run through Juan's body. "So, cara, where do we go from here?" The hoarse question held multiple layers of meaning. Gazing up at him, Linda felt lightheaded, until she realized she had been holding her breath too long in the rarefied air. Taking a deep, ragged gulp, she said, "There's supposed to be a small village near here, known for its woodcarvers. We - my husband and I - tried to find a piece of art when we used to go on vacation." "That's a wonderful tradition. Let's see if we can locate the place." There were choices this time. Linda made some wrong ones. Paving, then cobblestones disappeared. The road turned into a rutted trail, which terminated at the top of a high plateau. They were lost amid such compelling beauty both left the car, drawn to the edge of a precipice that could have marked the end of the known world. In the distance, a pale blue sky melded with the jutting, indigo escarpment of the eastern cordillera. From old geography lessons, Linda knew that just on the other side of the seemingly impassable barrier rivulets merged, eventually forming the headwaters of the Amazon. In her mind's eye, Auca and Jivero Indians - headhunters only a generation ago - glided through steaming jungle just fifty miles east, and ten thousand feet below. The danger - the splendor - coalesced, tugging at the couple. They turned. Linda found herself taking a hesitant step toward the man who was more dangerous, more wonderful to her than anyone else she had ever known. Her step was all he needed. Closing the distance between them, he captured her in his arms, raining hot kisses over her face, not caring where they landed. Their kisses grew desperate, hands moved to mold, to caress. Their melding bodies sank onto minty ground cover. Linda couldn't get enough of his firm, tender mouth, or get close enough to the warmth of his body. Her head was spinning, tinkling bells began to play an exotic tune in her ears. Running counterpoint to the jingling melody, were the haunting scales of Andean pan pipes playing somewhere in the misty distance. The music grew louder and nearer until reality jolted Linda out of the fantasy she had been playing along with since early morning. "Juan. John! Stop kissing my neck. JOHN KNIGHT, I said let go of me this instant. We're going to have company," she yelled into her dazed husband's ear. John finally heard the panic in her voice. He stumbled to his feet, pulling Linda up with him. He was still clasping her, leaning against the support of a wind-bent eucalyptus tree, when a small boy of ten or so rounded a rocky outcrop. The child's eyes widened at the sight of two disheveled gringos clutching each other. With inbred good manners, he doffed his colorful knitted cap to them, grinning a white smile of hello and goodbye. The dignified string of llamas following him paid no attention to the bewildered couple. "I just don't believe this." John shook his head. He looked out at the seemingly empty vistas surrounding them. "I would have sworn nobody else has been here for the last million years." "John. Oh - Johnny," Linda managed to gasp through the laughter shaking her body. "It's my fault. I should have remembered that old Ecuadorian saying - 'No matter how high the mountain, an Indian will be there before you.'" John joined in on her compulsive laughter. When he sobered, he looked into his wife's eyes. "Linda, I was never so frightened as when I walked into that empty house yesterday," he said, dropping a soft kiss on her hair. "I'd forgotten about the twins going to camp. I imagined a kidnapping, or that you had left me." He put a restraining finger on Linda's mouth when she tried to protest. "Just let me finish, honey. I should have realized how unhappy you were. You never reproached me, but I heard the sadness in your voice the last time I called. So, I rushed through those Mexican contracts and got home a week early." He placed tender hands against each side of her face. "Linda, I swear that was my last business trip for a long time. I don't care if they fire me. I've refused any more travel for the next six months." John looked at his wife, his face whitening when he saw tears sliding down her cheeks. "Linda, you've got to let me have another chance!" he pleaded. "I know I've given you a rough time, but I won't let you leave me. When I found the notations you made about your travel arrangements, next to the phone, I even followed you to Ecuador!" That explained most of the questions Linda had about his arrival at the Pension Suiza. "Oh, John," she sighed, hugging his strong body. "I know it was dumb to bolt. And as anti-woman's liberation as it sounds, I needed you to lean on at times, and you just weren't there. In fact, you, the 'Johnny' I fell in love with, hasn't been there for a long, long time." "Sweetheart, I know. I got too involved with my new responsibilities. That won't ever happen again. My God, don't you understand how much I need you, too? Your strength, your laughter, your love?" Nodding, Linda wiped away the last of her tears and smiled up at her husband. "I think I realized it this morning when I saw you leering at me around that potted fig tree. 'Don Juan Caballero del Rey,' indeed!" She repeated his alias once more, a sweet hint of laughter lingering in the lilting Spanish flow of the name. "Well, what does 'Caballero del Rey' mean? A king's man - his knight," he translated. "Yes, I sort of figured that out. My reputation must be ruined with Señor Velasquez and everyone else at the Pension." "Don't worry, honey. Velasquez was in on the game. I had to show him my passport and explain my mission. That guy's a romantic at heart and put on a first-class act for your benefit." Grinning, John pulled Linda down to sit with him against the rough-barked wood of the storm-canted eucalyptus. Safe in each other's arms, they leaned on the wind-tested tree. They had mended their marriage; a marriage, like the tree, that would endure.

#FICTION on the WEB short stories

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games-and-social-media-blog · 8 years ago

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A Society of Gamers

Social Media has radically changed the way we as people interact with the world, and each other. But it has also had a sizeable impact on businesses, giving them a way to instantly reach potentially millions of consumers with their message of ‘150 or less characters’. Today we will be focusing specifically on the impact social media has had on the Video Game Industry, and Game Developers.

Many companies nowadays have a social media division that manages social media accounts and interacts with customers, generally on platforms like twitter. Video Games Studios are no different, though strangely, Game Developers also often have some form of online presence. Sometimes a developer’s personal account simply gains popularity in the public sphere and becomes sort of an unofficial mouthpiece for the company and the game. Either way this often puts them at the forefront of the public image, and gives them a greater amount of control over how their company and game is viewed. Companies often present a very septic and clean image of themselves, but developer’s actively taking to social media reminds fans that there are real human people working behind the scenes. And in such a creatively driven field this is especially important, because it allows the consumers to relate to the creators and for the creators to learn about the consumers and better direct and market their product.

Take for example Bioware Creative Director for the Mass Effect series, Mac Walters. With 19.7k followers on his Twitter, he doesn’t have anywhere near the same reach as the official Mass Effect account which has 786k followers, but despite that he has created a very loyal community that hang on his every word and often get to interact with him directly, as he answers player’s questions, and addresses their concerns and critiques.

Fig 1. Walters replies to a fans question regarding problems with Bioware’s latest game Mass Effect Andromeda.

The sort of presence bleed between a developer’s personal identity online, and their role as a professional game developer can have potentially hazardous consequences, causing developers to have to maintain that level of professionalism and be available for their consumers online, even during their personal down time. However, this sort of relationship between developer and gamer would not have been possible 20 years ago, and now it allows them to get information out there on a more personal level to a community of interested individuals that can provide the sort of instant feedback that can be invaluable to someone in such a subjective creative position.

Video Game marketing has evolved quite a bit over the last decade, and has become a lot more mainstream as Video Games become normalised in society. However in interesting development has occurred regarding the online participatory culture revolving around the sharing of consumption of games. Youtube is a platform mostly centered this idea of a participatory demography, relying on it’s users to create video content that Youtube can then monetise. Video Creators can also then see a percentage of that ad revenue, allowing them to potentially make a living off having an online video presence. As a result, there is a large subsection of the site that is focused on video game content, ranging from “Let’s Plays”, to reviews, to comedic and even parody videos either containing footage of games, or entirely new user created content. While this sort of transformative play has become very popular, what’s more interesting is can be explained by this study Google undertook to understand gamers and their consumption of youtube videos. The study states that 95% of gamers watch videos about games, and that the most popular (most engaged by the community) videos are not brand-released content, such as trailers or announcements, but rather reviews made by third-parties or even in-house youtubers (Getomer, Okimoto, Johnsmeyer, 2013).

Fig2. A review on the video game Destiny by youtuber AngryJoe is one of the most viewed videos on youtube regarding the game with over 8 million views.

The above review of a popular multiplayer shooter game, Destiny, has been viewed by more than 8 million people since it was uploaded to years ago, soon after the release of the game. The reviewer, AngryJoe has built up a reputation for being scathingly honest with games, and adding skits to his reviews to entertain viewers while he informs them. This particular video by him also has 157 thousand likes and 36 thousand comments, boasting a very high level of engagement with viewers.

What this means for Video games and the industry is that more and more gamers are getting their information about a game from online videos, specifically reviews, but also community created game power entertainment, which took 39% of the views for all console game related videos. Furthermore, 47% of these views were claimed by community-made content, meaning that “community-created videos effectively doubled the amount of views the top selling games would have received through brand-released content alone” (Getomer, Okimoto, Johnsmeyer, 2013). This has a potentially huge impact on the marketing of the industry and its approach to video game marketing, when considering the percentage of gamers that view gaming videos. The surge of user created content regarding games has led some developers to take active steps to incentivise that sort of participatory behaviour. The creators of a game called “Polybridge”, a studio called “Dry Cactus”, added a simple GIF sharing function to their game, allowing users to with the press of a button quickly and easily share their creations and their experiences in the game with other. Developer Patrick Corrieri attributed much of the success of the game to this and goes on to explain that despite little marketing, the feature resulted in a ripple effect through social media, creating a very unexpected feedback loop (Corrieri, 2016). By encouraging a participatory culture through a very easy one click share of a player’s experience with in the community, the developers were able to reach far more potential consumers and increased the longevity of the game.

As the gap between developer and gamer closes, and communities grow around games, genres, and even content-creators such as youtubers, developers are finding it increasingly difficult to get away with the sort of behaviour that might have gone unchecked 20 years ago. When a developer is perceived to have stepped out of line, community justice can be swift and decisive.

Take Mass Effect Andromeda as an example. The game, which was released late March, shipped with several glaring issues, the most commonly hated being the facial animations of human characters during cutscenes. The community very clearly did not approve, and through countless tweets, online videos, reddit threads and forum posts, they showed Bioware that they were not content. Gif’s, clips and screenshots of the, sometimes hilarious, results of the games animations spread quickly across the internet and the game became ‘meme-ified’. 2 weeks after release Bioware released a blog post apologising and explaining their plan for action, and a few days later a patch was implemented which fixed a lot of the complaints gamers had had with the animation.

Fig3. A few of the videos uploaded onto youtube that address the facial animations of Mass Effect Andromeda

On the flip side, there is the case of Video Game publisher/developer, “Digital Homicide”. Popular youtuber, Jim Sterling, made a video in 2014 where he criticised their game “Slaughtering Grounds”. In the video he showcased some gameplay, along with many broken and poorly implemented systems and expressed his outrage that such a game could find its way onto the market, labelling it an “absolute failure”. The developers responded by reuploading his video, but this time with text overlayed on top, pretending to speak as Sterling and insulting him and blaming him for his lack of enjoyment.

youtube

Fig4. A video by Jim Sterling explains to his fans the situation between himself and “Digital Homicide”.

This eventually escalated to the developers pulling his video off youtube, citing fair use, and attempting to sue him for damages in excess of $10m, concerning counts of libel, slander and also assault. They also went so far as to attempt to sue 100 steam users that had left negative reviews on their game’s page for $18m, and were then kicked off steam by Valve, who were then the targets of a series of blog posts courtesy of the developers. This entire process lasted 3 years, only being settled a few months ago, however it is due to the community of gamers that rose in support of Sterling, that the youtuber came out on top. The virality of a ��Developer gone mad’ took hold of the gaming community, and together they proved that game developers very much still answer to their consumers and that their image in the public sphere mattered very much.

The Video Games industry has progressed far in the last two decades, and social media has played no small part in that, allowing for a whole new kinda of developer/gamer interaction, allowing entirely new communities and cultures to rise around community-created content through the transformative play of video games and giving gamers the power to hold developers to a higher standard and make their demands clear. Where we go from here remains to be seen.

References:

Barilla, C. (2016). How game developers can use social media integration to contribute to emergent play. Gamasutra.com. Retrieved 5 April 2017, from http://www.gamasutra.com/blogs/ClaireBarilla/20160801/278227/How_game_developers_can_use_social_media_integration_to_contribute_to_emergent_play.php

Serge, D. (2015). Why is social media important to the gaming industry | DOZ. DOZ. Retrieved 8 April 2017, from http://www.doz.com/social-media/social-media-gaming-industry

Walters, M. [macwalterslives]. (2017, Mar 23). Definitely taking a look at these issues, and others. We take them seriously. We'll have more details soon. https://t.co/sCL2GzTG2B [Tweet]. Retrieved from https://twitter.com/macwalterslives/status/844912966466228225

Scholz, T. (2013). Digital labor (1st ed., p. 5). New York: Routledge.

Getomer, J., Okimoto, M., & Johnsmeyer, B. (2017). GAMERS ON YOUTUBE (1st ed.). Google. Retrieved from https://docs.google.com/viewer?url=http://ssl.gstatic.com/think/docs/youtube-marketing-to-gamers_articles.pdf

Vargas, J. (2014). Destiny Angry Review. Retrieved from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gzopWRXK_r4

Dry Cactus,. (2017). Poly Bridge and Social Media: A Love Story. Retrieved from http://www.gdcvault.com/play/1023384/Poly-Bridge-and-Social-Media

Yongyea,. (2017). A Hard Look at Why Mass Effect: Andromeda's Facial Animation Looks So Bad. Retrieved from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XB1vBEaDisI

BeastGaming,. (2017). MASS EFFECT ANDROMEDA ALL Funny Animations Compilation Funniest Moments. Retrieved from Yongyea,. (2017). A Hard Look at Why Mass Effect: Andromeda's Facial Animation Looks So Bad. Retrieved from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XB1vBEaDisI

Harperlarp,. (2017). Mass Effect Andromeda's Awful Animations. Retrieved from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nR2gsGFOmTY

Yin-Poole, W. (2017). Jim Sterling comes out on top as lawsuit with Digital Homicide dismissed. Eurogamer.net. Retrieved 8 April 2017, from http://www.eurogamer.net/articles/2017-02-22-long-running-lawsuit-between-jim-sterling-and-digital-homicide-finally-comes-to-an-end

Sterling, J. (2014). SLAUGHTERING GROUNDS - New 'Worst Game Of 2014' Contender. Retrieved from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VfI7pAaOH9c

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ask-de-writer · 7 years ago

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Daring Do and the Adventure of the X'ibian Vase : MLP Fan Fiction : Part 3 of 21

This link leads to the whole tale

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Daring Do

and the Adventure of the X'ibian Vase!

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

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Carmen Pondiego