#this is all my own experience so id love to have input from someone else | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hogarthwrites · 3 years ago

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house sitting for two chapter 17

chapters:

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 16 pairing: Sam Drake/Reader (m/f) genre: smut, slow romance, mutual pining warnings: graphic sex, alcohol words: 2,901 summary: You're unsure about dating someone else and it makes you guilty about still being in love. You make your mind up when you run into a certain someone one night.

Sam and Sully had gone to Las Vegas. “Just because,” Sam reasoned. He needed to forget how empty he felt whenever it was nighttime and he was lonely in bed.

Instead, he and Sully gambled, outsmarting each other in their own games. At the end of the night, Sam would go to the nearest bar to drink. That’s where he was reunited with Victoria, an old flame he had just before Panama.

Victoria – or Vix – as he called her, was a nice enough woman. She was as loud as he remembered her and he genuinely did have fun with her, and there was an understanding between them: it was just sex.

He'd take her to his RV every night, and every single time he fucked her, he thought of you. As he dug his fingers into the soft skin of her hips, he closed his eyes, imagining you, drowning out the sounds of her moans. He couldn't understand how he became so attached to you but no other person.

It was then the telephone started ringing. Sam sighed, considering his options. He wasn't close yet and he wasn't in a hurry so he got up and hobbled to the phone.

“Yeah?” Sam leaned against the wall, expecting it to be Sully calling from his five-star hotel room, but there was no response.

“Come on, Sam, don't keep me waiting,” Victoria whined. “I was so close.”

“Just a second,” he turned away from her. “Hello? Hello?”

The line cut out, leaving Sam confused. Must've been a wrong number.

He drove Sully back to California the next day, feeling a little sad about being back in Paso Robles. It didn't stop him from looking around as he drove, hoping to get a glance of you – that is, if you stayed in the area.

“I've gotta say that was the first Vegas trip I've been on where I haven't made any life altering decisions,” Sully mused. “Hell, that was the mildest experience I've had.”

“Jeez, Victor, sorry I made it lame,” Sam joked. Deep down they knew they were too old to get shit faced drunk and make horrible decisions just after a few nights in Las Vegas.

“Ah, maybe next time,” Sully picked up his bags as Sam parked in front of his mid-century style home. “What's next for Samuel Drake?”

“Uh,” Sam thought. “Gonna visit a special lady named Irene, then hopefully my business partner can find another job for us.”

“Oh, Irene,” Sully chuckled.

“Ah, so you know her,” Sam smiled.

“The ‘70’s were a wild time, Sam,” Sully winked, confirming yours and Sam’s suspicions.

“Well, good for you, Victor. She's still single, just so you know.”

“Right,” Sully laughed. “Hey, maybe you should go up to Los Angeles, just see the sights. Weather’s nice this time of the year.”

Huh , Sam thought to himself. He hasn't been in LA in years. It won't hurt to stop by.

“Sure, Victor. I'll send you a postcard.”

“There's an open house this weekend,” Stephen said over the phone. “I hope you understand.”

“Yeah, I'm totally cool with it.” You lay in the hammock of your backyard, smoking a cigarette and mindlessly scrolled through social media. Sam was always on your Instagram, giving you just a glimmer of hope.

“I'll call as much as I can. I love you.”

You paused, chewing on you lip. “I'll see you soon, Steve.”

You felt the tiniest pang of guilt as you felt a bit of relief to be away from Stephen for two weeks. As much as you tried, you couldn't love him. Sam was still in your mind and everytime you had sex with Stephen, you thought about Sam. It just didn't feel as good.

It didn't stop you from being racked with guilt. You didn't want to be with Stephen, but you didn't want to be lonely.

I'm a horrible person and I had the audacity to call Sam a selfish bastard, you let out an angry puff of smoke. Maybe we are a lot more alike than I thought.

You groaned as you slid off the hammock hanging on your back porch and padded your way into your kitchen to get a drink. The silence was overwhelming while you poured yourself a glass of orange juice.

You retired to your room and climbed into your cold, empty bed. You hated the silence. You missed Sam’s voice as he talked on and on about something that excited him.

You read and reread the letter he wrote you in the hospital. It was short but it was enough to make you miss him every time.

I'm sorry. No one's ever done anything like that for me and I feel horrible. Please get better. I'll make you pancakes like I promised long ago.

I love you,

Sam

The landline phone caught your attention. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to hear his voice just for a bit.

You hastily got up and walked to the phone, mind racing as you picked up the receiver. You assured yourself it was fine and that Sam never had a caller ID.

Here goes, you held your breath as you dialed his number, dreading the ringing tones.

It kept ringing and you were scared it'll go to voicemail, but after a while, Sam finally picked up.

“Yeah?” He was out of breath.

Just that one word made your heart leap. You opened your mouth to say something when you heard someone in the background.

“Come on, Sam, don't keep me waiting,” a woman said in a sultry voice. “I was so close.”

“Just a second,” Sam called out. “Hello? Hello?”

You hung up. That was a terrible idea.

Irene was overjoyed to see Sam, peppering his face in kisses.

“Oh, you've grown so tall!” She joked. “It's so nice to see you, Sam.”

“You know I can't stay away from my favourite weed lady,” he chuckled.

“Are you staying long?”

“Nah, just dropping by to say ‘hi’.”

“Well ‘hi’ to you too,” she smiled.

She gave him a pan of banana bread (and some weed) before he left, asking if he ever got to see you. He wished he did.

You lay on the floor of your living room, music blasting on the stereo as you had a pity party. You had to end things with Stephen as the guilt was becoming too much for you to bear.

You had put the ring back on, staring at it as you held your hand up. You needed a drink.

The fluorescent lights of the store were a little too bright for you and you trudged to the fridge, ignoring the guy manning the cashier.

“You look like shit again,” he remarked.

“‘Kay, thanks for the input, Troy,” you muttered. Asshole.

You grabbed a few bottles of beer, hugging them to your chest. Just another Friday night.

“Sorry, I need a pack of cigarettes… Or two,” you heard a familiar voice. You peeked behind a shelf of condoms.

It was Sam. What the hell is he doing in LA and in this particular store too?

Fuck. You began to panic, glancing down at yourself. The grey sweatpants and your stained DIY shirt you painted years ago wasn’t the most flattering outfit and it didn't help that your hair was a mess.

You wanted him to just go, but through your panicked state, you dropped one of the bottles in your arms, catching Sam’s attention.

“Y/N?” He looked at you curiously.

“Heyy, Sam,” you sheepishly stepped away from the mess on the floor.

“Clean up on aisle two,” Troy mumbled, grabbing the broom and a mop.

“Sorry, I'll pay for that,” you tiptoed past him.

“No, I'll pay for it,” Sam looked at you, a smile tugging at the corner of his lip. Your heart leaped when you met his gentle eyes. “That's a lot of bottles.”

“TGIF, right?” You awkwardly laughed. Idiot.

“Can't argue with that,” Sam smiled.

Troy totalled up yours and Sam’s purchases after a lot of whining. Sam helped you carry your bottles of beer.

“Where ya heading?” He asked.

“Home. It's not too far from here.”

“Come on, I'll give you a lift,” he nudged you.

“No, it's fine,” you shook your head.

“You don't wanna see my snazzy new tiny home?”

“Tiny home,” you chuckled. “Yeah, sure I'd love to see it.”

Sam had a nice little RV with his motorcycle secured on it. It wasn't too fancy inside; his books were neatly organised on a small shelf by the sofa/dining area, the plants you left him on a box by the window, and a large bed in the back with just a curtain for privacy.

“Wow,” you looked around. “What made you wanna get an RV?”

“Eh, just wanted to be able to move around easier,” he shrugged as he sat in the driver's seat. “It's not permanent, but it's been alright so far.”

You took the seat next to him, fastening your seatbelt.

“Where to?” Sam asked.

“Its just a few blocks away. Go west.”

It was supposed to be a short drive, but it felt longer to you. You didn't know what to say and neither did Sam, just Spandau Ballet softly playing on the radio filling in the silence.

“So,” Sam cleared his throat. “LA… Why? You planning on being in Hollywood?”

You shrugged. “I've always lived in smaller towns, I thought a bigger city might be an experience.”

“Right,” he nodded. “Do you like it?”

“It's been alright,” you shrugged again. “I haven't gotten around to exploring as much. Oh, it's just here.”

You pointed at the one-story Spanish revival house you've been staying in. Sam parked in front and you picked up your paper bag, heavy with the bottles.

“Let me help you with that,” Sam reached out, his hand touching your arm. It was enough to make you feel hot all over.

He locked eyes with you and for a moment, you thought he was leaning in to kiss you. You instinctively closed your eyes, waiting, but nothing happened.

When you opened your eyes, Sam was holding the paper bag and walking towards the door.

Oh, you were disappointed. What was I expecting?

He walked you to the door, his eyes on you the entire time.

“I missed you,” he said, making your heart leap again.

“Sam,” you looked up at him as you reached your door.

“Sorry,” he sighed. “I just… Couldn't get you out of my mind in months, I had to say it.”

“I missed you too,” you softly said.

This time, you felt his lips on yours, and you instinctively kissed him back. There were butterflies in your stomach, but the moment didn't last.

Sam stepped back, his face a little flushed. You felt your cheeks heat up as well.

He held out the paper bag to you. “Um, good night.”

“Good night…” You whispered as he turned to go back to his RV. “Sam, wait–”

He looked back, and you walked towards him.

“You can park in my driveway for the night… Or however long you're going to stay here.”

“I don't want to be a burden–”

“What? Sam, it's me. I…” You bit your lip. “I want you here. Maybe we can hang out.”

“Okay,” he smiled.

You took a deep breath as you closed your door behind you, your heart still racing. Sam kissed you and for the first time in months, you felt… Happy?

You placed the bottles in your fridge, no longer interested in drinking them, then changed into cleaner clothes for bed. You peeked out your window and saw the lights were still on in his RV.

You wanted to go to him, to kiss him more, to hold him again, but you thought of Stephen. True, he wasn't your boyfriend officially, but he trusted you. But still…

You found yourself in front of Sam’s door, and as you were about to knock, Sam opened the door.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi.”

You stood, staring at each other as if you both couldn't believe it. Sam pulled you into his arms, and you kissed him, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carried you in, closing the door behind him with his foot.

He sat you on the table, his hands sliding down to your ass.

“I missed you,” he whispered, his lips moving down to your neck.

You sighed as he left cool kisses on the hot skin of your neck. He pulled you close and you wrapped your legs around his waist again.

“Sam,” you whispered as he began lifting your shirt.

“What–what is it?” He rested his forehead on yours.

“Should we be doing this?” You asked, trailing your finger down his chest.

Sam kissed you. “I don't know, but it feels so right.”

Your shirt and your shorts were discarded somewhere around his RV and Sam had your legs over his shoulders as he kneeled in front of the table. He gave your clit a few licks, his eyes on yours the entire time.

“God, I missed this view,” you ran your fingers through his hair.

“What, your new boyfriend doesn't eat you out?” He gave you a smug smirk.

“He’s not my boyf–”

Sam continued licking your clit, closing his eyes as he pushed his face further against your pussy. It was getting too much for you and you tugged at his hair.

“More, Sam, more,” you moaned.

You felt him smile against you as he began sucking on your clit softly, switching between sucking and licking. You bucked your hips against him but he held you down.

Sam gave a satisfied hum as you came, your thighs squeezing his head.

“How was that?” He stood up, leaning over you on the table. It was then you noticed that he was still fully dressed, but the tent in his grey sweatpants was hard to ignore.

“I think I've been missing out on Samuel Drake,” you chuckled.

He pulled you up and carried you to the bed bridal style.

“Wait, Sam,” you sat up as he climbed over you.

“What?”

“I've been having sex.”

He blinked at you. “So?”

“And you have too, I assume?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “So?”

You pushed him away. “So put a condom on.”

Sam gave you an amused smile. “You know you're the only person I've never had safe sex with.”

“Good to know,” you stuck your tongue out. “But put one on.”

“Okay, okay,” he laughed, standing up.

Sam held the condom up before climbing on top of you to kiss you. “Happy?”

You took off his shirt and he climbed out of his sweatpants, cock glistening with precum. It was enough to get you wet.

He ripped the condom packet open and slipped it on with ease. Sam gave you soft, sweet kisses as he began pushing inside you.

You both gasped at the sensation, Sam had his lip pinned between his teeth as he pushed deep inside you. He began to thrust slowly and gently cupping your cheek.

“Harder,” you whispered, desperate for more.

Sam groaned as he began pounding into you, his hands sliding up your body to cup your breasts. He kissed you hard as he collapsed on top of you, rolling over so you were on top of him.

“I wanna see you,” he said, moving your hips against his. “I wanna see you fucking me.”

You placed your hands against the headboard, bouncing on his cock. You moaned out his name loudly; something you've been wanting to do for months. It felt so good to finally have him under you and all you wanted was to make him feel good, to make up for all the lost time.

Sam pulled you in to kiss you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“I missed you too,” you sighed between kisses.

“I forgot how good you feel,” he kissed your neck.

His hands slid down to your ass, spreading then as he rammed his hips up against yours. You grabbed at the pillow at his head, crying out loud. His finger dipped into your asshole and you moaned out.

The dual sensation was enough to make you cum, and Sam wasn’t far behind. He kissed you hard as he came, holding you close.

You were breathless as you rolled off him and he took the condom off, dunking it into the trash.

The bed dipped as he climbed back in, lying on his back next to you.

“Wanna see something cool?” Sam smiled.

He pressed a button and the rather large sunroof opened up, letting in more of the moonlight and the dim streetlights.

“Oh, that is cool,” you grinned. “Why didn't you show me before we fucked?”

“I don't think your neighbours would be too happy seeing us fornicate if they happened to look out the window.”

“You think they can really see us?”

Sam shrugged, putting an arm under his head and stared up at the sky with you.

“Do you wanna go out tomorrow?” You asked.

“Are you gonna give me the Grand Los Angeles tour?”

“Honestly, I haven't even toured it myself,” you sheepishly said. “It hasn't really felt like home.”

“Well,” Sam looked up in thought. “Maybe we can start with Santa Monica? I believe it isn't too far from here.”

“Okay,” you took his hand in yours.

#sam drake x reader #sam drake #samuel drake #oh shit here we go again

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skiedotutoring · 3 years ago

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HOW TO BECOME AN ONLINE TUTOR IN 7 EASY STEPS

With technology creeping into almost all aspects of our everyday lives, more people are now taking classes online. The advent of Covid-19 even emphasized the need for virtual classes, and teachers are now harnessing this opportunity to make money from the comforts of their home.

Fortunately, you see yourself as someone with relevant knowledge or skills to do the same. But your problem is, how do you become an online tutor? What are the things you need to do to start teaching online?

The good thing is, you can become an online tutor even when you currently have a regular job.

Whether you’re a teacher or a retired one, a professional in any industry with sought-after skills such as music, or even an undergraduate, becoming an online tutor is an excellent way to make money online simply by sharing knowledge.

This blog post, therefore, discusses the steps you need to take to become an online tutor.

7 STEPS TO BECOMING AN ONLINE TUTOR

Determine what to offer based on your strengths

Knowing where your strength lies is vital to being optimally impactful to your students. You may be knowledgeable in diverse areas, but you want to choose a subject of which you can deliver to your best capacity. This will help you stand out more among other tutors in that given field.

Pro tip: Having a certification on your chosen subject is often required to build credibility, but it’s not a conclusive determinant. You could become an online tutor even while in school or just newly graduated. To start teaching online, what’s essential is that you have the requisite subject knowledge, some level of experience, a passion for learning and imparting knowledge, and a cordial, professional attitude.

Know your target audience

Perhaps, you’ve chosen to teach math or guitar online. The next step to becoming an online tutor is identifying your potential students and the challenges they face in that subject matter.

So you want to ask yourself the following questions:

Who is my target audience?

What are their needs?

How do I persuade them to choose me as their teacher amidst the competition?

How do I express myself as an expert in this given field?

Choose an online tutoring platform

You may be tempted to create your own website as an online tutor, but it’s far easier to sign up on an online tutoring marketplace like Skiedo.

At Skiedo, you can become an online tutor with or without any certification, as long as your knowledge can be an asset to someone else. Sign up for free, design your course according to your schedule, set your own price, and get paid 100% of the fees due to you.

Interestingly, Skiedo has a live video chat feature in addition to text messaging. With the video chat, you can discuss with your students face-to-face, get a more personable experience, understand their needs, and hold your online classes.

With Skiedo becoming an online tutor is fast and easy, and registration is free! You can register right away and become an online tutor in minutes by login to skiedo.com and following the instructions below:

Click on Become a Tutor. On the drop-down menu that appears, click Register.

A page will open where you get to type in your name, email, and password. Read Skiedo's Terms & Conditions, Agree, and then click Next.

You will then receive a verification email to verify your email ID.

Once verified, you can log in back by entering your email ID and password. Then click LOGIN.

Now you need to fill in your basic information on the page that opens. Kindly fill in the data at your convenience and to your best knowledge.

Click Next and select the subjects you wish to teach. You can choose multiple subjects but are not advised to choose more than three subjects in which you're best versed.

Once you're done filling your subjects, complete inputting your information and ensure all fields have been filled. Kindly select your hourly rate as well. Then click Next.

Time to personalize your profile. It's always best to use a smiling picture to express friendliness to your students. On creating your profile, click Next.

You will then arrive at the Terms & Conditions Page. If you've read it, click Accept, which then takes you to your tutor profile. Here you will find all your information. You can edit and update at your convenience. Also, include your bank details where you'll receive your payments.

Add your 'slots of booking,' which tells students about your availability. Each slot should be an hour each.

If the subject you wish to offer is not on the list of subjects, you can 'suggest' a subject by clicking on the left bar of 'teaching subjects'.

Once you Register, your profile will appear when students search. When they book the class, you will receive a notification to approve the class. It's best to do so as soon as possible.

Once you've accepted the booking, you need to Initiate the Class on your dashboard on 'My Schedule'.

Once a class is finished, click Complete the Class.

You can also watch the video on how to become a tutor on Skiedo here.

Get your technical requirements set

As an online tutor, you will conduct your classes on a computer via the Internet. Hence, you need the following technical requirements to ensure you and your students don’t suffer glitches in the middle of an exciting course:

A fast and reliable computer: Although you may already have a computer, ensure it has at least a 1 GHz processor and 2 GB of ram for optimal speed. Skiedo works on Windows, Android, and Ios, so you can easily download the app. If you're using a web browser, however, ensure it's up-to-date.

High-speed Internet of at least 1 Mbps: You do not want your video conversation cutting off every minute. To know if your Internet connection is up to speed, go to www.speedtest.net.

HD Webcam: Being able to hear each other is great, but seeing each other brings that deep human connection that creates a whole new experience. Fortunately, Skiedo comes with a video chat feature. To get an optimal experience, ensure your webcam is HD. If yours is of a lower quality, purchase and install a better one.

The following are not mandatory but can give you a better experience:

Microphone: This is most especially important for music classes. However, if you want your students to hear you more efficiently, you'd need to get one if your in-built microphone isn't that great. Plug it into the microphone slot in your computer and set it up just beside the computer, with the mouthpiece close to your face. Blue Microphone Yeti and Rode NTK are some of the best microphones for online classes.

Headphones

Whiteboards.

Set up your course outline

As an online tutor, your course shouldn’t be bland. Ensure you design your course to be engaging and different from those of your competitors.

Additionally, structure the outline and direction of the lesson based on the subject matter, number of students in the session, and how much you want them to gain during the course. If it would be best to teach students individually, then do so.

Depending on the niche you’re into, you can also create written materials to back up the live video session.

And most importantly, it’s always a great idea to include interactive and gaming sessions to keep your students engaged. This fun environment helps to build a personal connection with them (many students complain of lack of personal connection in virtual learning).

Spice up your online course with quizzes, instructive videos, and other interactive activities. Make your learning more engaging, and users will rush to become your students.

Set your price and payment system

Setting an hourly rate is often a daunting task for online tutors. You may not want to set a price that looks too high, neither do you want to charge something unworthy. One way to go is to browse through other tutors in your chosen field. Notably, online tutors can charge anything between $20 and $100 per hour, depending on the course.

On fixing your price, you should then decide how you wish for students to make payments. PayPal, Google Pay, and Payoneer are some fast, reliable methods.

But Skiedo makes it so much easier. On Skiedo, you can enter your bank details and get your fees straight into your bank account.

Time to have your first class!

You’ve covered virtually all you need to do in your journey to becoming an online tutor. Now for the exciting part: your first class!

You will most likely have some worries and may even feel nervous, but preparation is key!

Have a game plan ready. It’s helpful to write out your introduction and the order of things for that particular session so that you always know what to do or say.

As you have your technical requirements all sorted out, you also need to make sure your students have theirs. Ask questions to know if their system is up to speed and what learning pattern they’re most comfortable with. It’s also a great idea to prepare a written material for your students to go through before the first class.

Putting your students on the same page with you is imperative for success as an online tutor.

If you feel nervous, rehearse with a friend or family member. This can help put you at ease before the actual class.

Pro tip: Be flexible. As an online tutor, you must be flexible. Your students may live in another time zone entirely, so you want to be available when you’re needed.

📷

CONCLUSION

Now you know the steps to take to become an online tutor and start teaching online. It’s time to take action and start. As you move on, you will find your teaching skills getting sharpened.

Teaching online is an incredible way for you to make extra money doing the things you love. Take charge of this digital learning revolution, and the sky’s your limit.

#online tutoring #Online tutiom

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paradisobound · 5 years ago

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Sail Away With Me: Part 8

Summary: It was a fluke. Dan shouldn’t have ever gone with Sam to a party on a yacht. He shouldn’t have trusted her to go. But in a chance encounter, he ends up in bed with Phil Lester, a billionaire CEO of a luxury clothing company. When he thinks he’s screwed up enough, he realizes he’s in way too deep. Because Phil Lester has fallen in love with him. The catch: Dan gave Phil a fake name and all Phil has to remember Dan by is the tattoo on his hip and the necklace he left behind.

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: None

Pairing: Instagraminfluencer!dan and CEO!Phil

This is a chaptered work. Updates every Saturday around 1pm EST

**MASTERLIST | ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN | WATTPAD**

PHIL POV

It was morning when Phil wakes up and sees Ethan curled onto his side on the bed beside him. His chin resting on his hand and his hair pressed disheveled onto the pillow. The light from the window was streaming down onto him like the sky opened up and sunshine poured through the clouds down. It was like the first ray of sunshine on a summer day.

Warmth.

Phil realizes this sounds incredibly cheesy but it’s hard for him to not feel that way when he finally has the man he’s been looking for in his life. It felt like all of the weeks leading up to this were worth it with all of the sadness and defeat that would well up inside of him.

It was like he was finally able to feel the same feelings he felt for Lucas all those years ago.

As he looks down at Ethan and smiles, he lets out a sigh through his nose. It had been so long since Phil has allowed for himself to feel this way about another man. He had withheld these feelings for so long because a part of him was saying that he was betraying Lukas. He felt like he wouldn’t—no, couldn’t—be in love with another man because that would meant he finally no longer loved Lukas.

But that’s not really the case at all and Phil realizes this now. He realizes all of this as Ethan’s shoulders rise and fall just the slightest amount as he breathing picks up a bit and then he’s turning in bed, the sheets rucking up on his lower half.

Phil forgets that they’re both naked until he notices the hair on Ethan’s happy trail peeking out from under the lowered duvet and it makes his heart swell as he remembers the night before, and how amazing it was to be in the throes of passion with Ethan again.

Ethan stirs a little bit more and then his eyes open and it’s like golden honey pouring into Phil’s soul.

“Morning.”

Ethan’s eyes open a bit more and he reaches up and rubs the tiredness out of them by rubbing his fisted hands onto them. He then stretches and the blanket slips down a bit more and Phil looks down just in time for Ethan to grab it and pull it back up, covering all that he can.

“Did you sleep well?” Phil decides to ask.

Ethan looks up at him and nods with a sleepy smile. “Yeah. Did you?”

Phil nodded and leaned down, pressing their lips together in a quick kiss. Ethan lets out a sigh against Phil’s lips and his body goes lax as he relaxes and melts into it. Phil reaches out with a shaking hand to Ethan’s arm and rubs up and down on the skin.

The same electricity that was there before was there again and it feels like more.

The kissing doesn’t progress much because as soon as Phil begins to roll Ethan onto his back to hover over him, his phone begins to ring loudly from the bedside table. He groans and pulls back, rolling onto his back as he reaches for it and grabs it in his hand. He doesn’t bother to see who it is, he presses answer and then presses for speaker phone and let’s the voice ring through.

“Phil! Where are you? You’re missing the meeting with Luxor.”

Phil quickly sits up in bed with the sound of Geoffrey’s stressed voice ringing through his speaker. “Oh shit. That’s this morning isn’t it?”

“Phil, it started a half an hour ago. We were putting it on hold until you arrived but you’re still not here.”

Geoffrey sounded upset and Phil understood it. He should have been more responsible. He had been a bit reckless with Ethan but in his defense, he never thought he would see Ethan ever again so this was a major deal to him to have Ethan with him.

“I can be to the office in 20,” Phil says, throwing the duvet back and hissing at the cool temperature of the room hitting his naked flesh. “I’m so sorry.”

He hangs up before Geoffrey can say anything back and he goes to turn around to Ethan when he notices Ethan is already out of bed and stepping into a pair of boxers. “I’m so sorry.” Phil began, causing Ethan to jump. “I completely forgot about the meeting with Luxor today. My company is collaborating with them and this was our project planning meeting so I need to be there to give my input.”

Ethan lets out a small smile and nods. “It’s okay. I should get going anyway.”

He’s slipping his shirt back onto his arms when Phil jumps up and rushes over to him. “Please tell me I’ll see you again?”

Phil feels a bit pathetic, a bit desperate, asking Ethan if he can see him again but the nod and blush that Ethan supplies him with is enough to help him brain from overthinking it. “I’ll call you later, okay?” Phil says.

“I’ll be looking forward to it.” Ethan says before he brushes up against Phil and gives him a chaste kiss on the cheek. He finishes dressing and slips out the door before Phil has time to say anything else.

His heart hurts a bit to see him go and a part of him is worried it’ll be the last time. But another part of him is telling himself that this is definitely not going to be the last time and everything will be okay and Phil will see Ethan as soon as possible.

***

“Where were you?”

Phil is rushing into the building with Geoffrey waiting for him just past the security clearance desk. “I was busy.”

“Doing what?” Geoffrey prodded. “Having a final shag with a bloke you met last night?”

Phil rolled his eyes. “No, in fact, Ethan spent the night.”

Geoffrey pressed the button for the elevator and scanned his ID badge in to activate it. “Ethan?”

“The guy I met in Italy.”

They stepped into the elevator and made their way up to the 10th floor. When the doors opened, they both stepped out and hurried to the conference room.

“The guy you’ve been looking for?” Geoffrey asks and Phil nods. Geoffrey gives him a cheeky smile and elbows him gently in the ribs. “Phil, you sly—“

“Shhh!” Phil warned. “I don’t even know if it’s quite a thing yet so just—”

They push open the conference door and Phil greets all of the people sitting there with handshakes. “I apologize for the lateness,” He begins but as he sees that no one else is impressed with his excuse, he shuts up and looks up at the powerpoint that Geoffrey is now referring to.

It’s halfway through the meeting when the words, “Amalfi office” catch Phil’s attention. He looks up from his notepad and sees that Geoffrey is talking about how they believe their Amalfi office could help establish and international shipping point for their clothing.

Phil’s intrigued now because Amalfi, while it never had much place in his heart before, had plenty of space now. It was the small coastal town where he met Ethan and it’s the city where his life changed forever. And yeah, he was just there not that long ago but if he can experience that all over again he—

“I’ll go to Amalfi and oversee the company.”

The words are out of his mouth before he can even process what he has just said. He just agreed to temporarily uproot his entire life to Amalfi to oversee that international branch.

Geoffrey set down his laser pointer and leaned on the table. “Phil…are you…?”

“I really think it would be the best,” Phil says. “I can manage the company from Amalfi and help overlook the proceedings while everything is underway here in London. It only makes sense if I go instead of sending someone else there who isn’t going to know what they’re doing.”

“Are you positive this is what you can do?”

Phil bites his lip and nods his head and then the entire table erupts into chatter as Phil stands up, grabs his notebook, and leaves the room.

Jeanna finds him in his office a short time later with a scorned look on her face. “Are you mad?” She says.

“Possibly.”

“You’re absolutely mental to go to Amalfi and oversee the company from there while this major collaboration is happening.”

“It’s not mental,” Phil says. “Amalfi was the best thing that ever happened to me. I want to go back there.”

“But Ethan is here.” Jeanna counters. “So are you going to leave Ethan behind while you uproot to Amalfi for a few months?”

And just like that, a lightbulb goes off in Phil’s head and he excuses himself out of the office. He makes his way to his private bathroom and steps inside as he dials Ethan’s number.

Ethan answers after a few rings and a confused but hopeful “hello?” rings through the speakers.

“Do you want to come to Amalfi with me to live for a few months?”

Phil hears a loud boom on the other side of the line.

DAN POV

He dropped his phone. He dropped his damn cell phone as soon as Phil spoke those words because what the ever-loving fuck was happening? They just reconnected and now Phil is asking him to stay with him in Amalfi for a few months. Could he even do that?

“Ethan? Ethan? Are you there?”

It still makes Dan cringe to hear Phil use his fake name. “Yeah, I’m here. Sorry I dropped my phone.”

Phil laughed on the other side. “So what do you say?”

Dan feels his mouth slack open and he runs a hand over his face before he finally says. “Yeah.”

“You’ll come with me to Amalfi?”

Dan nods and then laughs. “Yeah, I’ll come with you.”

“Oh my god, I didn’t think you actually agree!” Phil says. “I have to work out the logistics but we’ll leave in a few days. No need to worry about money or flights, I have you covered okay?”

Dan feels the giddiness bubble up inside of him as he says a quick okay and then they both hang up. Dan falls to the floor of his bedroom and Sam looks up at him from where she is sat on his bed.

“What the fuck was that?”

“I was just asked to go to Amalfi with Phil.”

Sam shot up from the bed. “WHAT?”

Dan just nodded with a massive smile because he couldn’t believe it had been real either.

“Did you agree?”

Dan nodded again and Sam screeched. “DAN WHAT THE FUCK!”

“I’m going to Amalfi with Phil.” Dan repeated. “I’m fucking going to Amalfi with Phil for a few months and we’re going to drink wine and cruise around on his yacht and have lots of sex and I’m—this can’t be real, right?”

Just as soon as he questioned reality, his phone buzzed again and he looked down to see a new text from Phil telling him that he wanted to see Dan that night. Dan bit his lip and smiled down at his phone as he answered that he would definitely be there.

“We need to get you some new clothing to take!” Sam exclaimed. “Oh my gosh, we need to go now!”

“Sam, you know I don’t have the money to buy a bunch of brand new clothes.”

Sam rolled her eyes and walked over to his closet. She opened the doors and begin to rifle through his various shirts and hanging pants. “How do you not have any nice clothing to take to Amalfi? Didn’t we buy you some before we left the last time?”

Dan shook his head. “Most of it was rented from a company, remember? It was part of my sponsorship deal. All of those clothes got returned.”

Sam shut the door and turned around on her heels. She reached out, grabbing Dan’s arm in her palm with a hard grasp, and she yanked him towards the door.

“Come on, let’s go.”

“Where are you going?”

“I’m taking you shopping,” Sam exclaims. “We’re getting you some expensive clothing just for Phil to remove and through on the floor of his home every night.”

Dan lets out a loud laugh and follows her out of the flat.

***

The shopping was just as eventful as Dan had thought it was going to be. He tried on--and he’s not exaggerating--hundred of tops. Sam had also been super strict about what he was allowed to buy and after seeing the price ring up on the till every time, he would try to wrestle the black credit card out of Sam’s hand. But of course, Sam bought him a bunch of new clothing even though he protested to most of it. And now, after putting it all away, he’s on his way in a car called by Phil to Phil’s penthouse.

Dan’s extremely nervous, but not in a bad way. He’s super excited to be able to see Phil again but he’s also nervous because this is a lot happening all of the sudden. Just a few days ago, he was figuring out whether or not even wanted to show up to meet Phil. And now he’s kissed Phil, spent the night with again, and he’s going to Amalfi.

The car stops in front of the penthouse and Dan gets out, nodding a thank you to the driver as he goes inside and buzzes to go up to Phil’s place. When he gets inside the elevator, he pushes for Phil’s floor?l, which is appropriately labeled, and the doors open just outside of Phil’s penthouse.

Phil opens the door as soon as Dan steps up to it and he wraps his arms around Dan without a warning and Dan slips his arms around Phil’s waist as Phil kisses up and down his neck, sucking lightly on the tender skin. It’s not enough to leave a mark but it’s enough for Dan to feel the pleasure from it.

Phil stops and walks them back into his living room and he brings Dan to his couch where he has two glasses of red wine poured and a plate of meat and crackers setting out. “I didn’t know if you wanted anything to eat but I ordered us sushi from my favorite place that will be here in a few. I poured us a glass of wine while we wait.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” Dan blushes. “You don’t have to do any of this.”

Phil smiled. “Well, then think of this as a celebration of you agreeing to come to Amalfi with me.”

Dan smiled and picks up the glass. He raises it up to his lips and takes a sip and it’s easily the best wine he’s ever had. He pulls it back and looks at Phil with a stunned look who just laughed. “Never has wine before?”

Dan scoffed. “Of course I have but I’ve never had wine this good.”

Phil laughs a bit more. “Well, expect it from now on. Because you only deserve the finest everything.”

Phil leans over and attaches his lips to Dan’s neck again. Dan reaches up and puts his hand on the back of Phil’s neck and holds him in place, letting Phil suck and leave bruises on his skin. He’ll have marks for a few days now but he doesn’t care. Let people see them and see that Phil did them.

Dan let out a moan and Phil pulled back, connecting their lips. Dan sighs into the kiss and melts again. His body feels so relaxed with Phil, so ready. Everything feels so good, so right.

“I still can’t believe that you’ve agreed to come with me,” Phil says pulling away. “I never thought that this would ever happen.”

Dan smiles. “I can’t wait to get to explore Amalfi with you.” He says. “I can’t wait to be there and relive the night when we met.”

Phil blushes. “I can’t believe you’re real, Ethan.”

He leans down and kisses Dan and Dan feels a bit caught off guard by Phil still thinking his name was Ethan. He should correct him. He should say something before this gets too far deep and he no longer can say anything.

He pulls back and opens his mouth to say the words but the doorbell buzzing into the penthouse interrupts his thoughts and he decides that he’ll wait until a better time.

#phan #phanfic #phanfiction #smut #fluff #angst #princesslexi763fics #sail away fic

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thegayfromrulid · 5 years ago

Text

A request in my DMs <3 from a lovely friend. My head is swimming right now I have such a bad head cold but. Whoo. I got this done today and I’m happy I did. One-shot below the cut.

“We need your help to restore Kirigaya. That’s the most basic way to put it.”

There was static for a moment, and then a voice responded, sounding wary and possibly frightened.

“I-I’m not sure I follow…who’s Kirigaya?”

He straightened up in his chair. So far, so good.

“Kirigaya Kazuto. Our data indicates that you were nearby when damage happened to his Fluctlight. Ah, but you don’t know what a Fluctlight is.”

A man in a kimono placed his hand on his seated coworker’s shoulder.

“Higa, wait.”

The voice spoke up again, this time clearly afraid.

“I can’t…I can’t see anything…who’s Kirigaya? Where am I?”

The man in the kimono frowned up at the big screen in front of him. It had taken a lot of work on Higa’s part to harvest this data—the data of someone very close to Kazuto’s heart. He felt a slight bit of guilt for putting this artificial Fluctlight in such a situation, where he had no body and no sensory input other than sound. It must have been horrifying.

“Try to stay calm. You probably might know Kirigaya by a different name. Sometimes he goes by ‘Kirito.’ Is that name familiar to you?”

It should be, he hoped. Their data had revealed that they’d messed up Kirigaya’s dive. He was completely aware of himself inside of the Soul Translator. But that wasn’t important. What was important was that this Fluctlight, a reconstruction of a deceased Fluctlight known as Eugeo based off of stray data left behind, recognized Kirigaya in some format still.

The voice hummed in thought.

“How do you know Kirito?”

He smiled.

“Wow, you knew the right keyword, didn’t you, Kikuoka?”

Higa gave him a thumbs’ up. He turned his attention back to the screen.

“Kirito is from our world. Does this make sense?”

The voice hummed again.

“I think…I think so. Administrator mentioned Kirito being from a different world. I’m confused. I can’t see anything.”

Kikuoka tried his best to sound reassuring.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be able to see soon enough. I don’t know that you’ll understand all of this, but my interest is in saving Kirito’s life. If you agree to comply, we will transfer your Fluctlight—your soul, so to speak—into one of our administrative accounts. The account’s name is Vector. With the account, you’ll have certain privileges that will hopefully allow you to find Kirito and restore his Fluctlight. Are you following?”

There was a pause.

“I don’t quite understand,” he said. “But I’ll do anything to help Kirito. Just tell me what I need to do.”

Kikuoka and Higa shared a grin. This just might work.

“When you come to, you’re going to be in the Dark Territory. Since you will be in command of the Vector ID, the residents will likely obey you. I can’t give too much of a guarantee on that, but you’ll have more power than them. Kirito is presently in Rulid. You’ll have to reenter the Human Empire through the gate in the east.”

He gave a huff.

“Gate in the east? I’m following so far.”

Kikuoka nodded.

“Good, good. This is going to kickstart a Final Stress Test. Basically, the Human Empire will think you’re attacking. You might have to fight through them to get to Kirito.”

Eugeo didn’t seem to be wavered by the thought.

“We’re already criminals in the eyes of the church. I would have run away to the Dark Territory with him because of our rebellion. Fighting through the Integrity Knights won’t be any different this time.”

Laughing, Kikuoka crossed his arms, shook his head, and smirked up at the screen.

“How bold of you.”

The boy wasn’t done.

“Once I reach Kirito, what do I have to do? I don’t know anything about…Fluct…”

Kikuoka drew in a deep breath.

“For the ease of your lack of understanding for how our world works, Kirito’s soul is damaged. All you have to do is fix what was damaged—soul data. Something like a touch might be sufficient. In fact, a touch might be best. His mind is blocked off, but his body is still receiving sensory input. Touching him is sure to stimulate him.”

He could almost feel the artificial Fluctlight nodding at him.

“That sounds simple enough.”

Kikuoka huffed.

“So, you’ll accept this mission?”

There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation in the young man’s voice.

“Without question.”

Higa started to furiously type on the keypad in front of him.

“Best of luck to you, then,” he said, casting a nervous glance up at the screen. “I’m going to transfer your Fluctlight into the Vector ID now. Please remain calm.”

The audio line went dead. Kikuoka looked down at Higa and waited. After a few minutes, Higa looked up to meet his gaze and gave him a curt nod.

“His Fluctlight safely was logged into the Vector super-account. Here’s hoping he is able to help Kirigaya.”

Kikuoka smiled and patted his colleague on the shoulder.

“He’ll do just fine. I know it.”

The sensation of regaining a physical form was difficult for him to place. When talking to the two people he couldn’t see, his only active sense had been sound. His senses seemed to turn on one by one following a high-pitched sound. He only knew, when his sight returned to him at last, that he was in the Dark Territory. Where within it was anyone’s guess. The strange, faceless men hadn’t been all-too specific.

A woman dressed too scantily for her to be Axiom church clergy slowly approached him. The way she held herself might suggest that she intended to seduce him to get what she wanted. He didn’t care about that. He was back in this world to find Kirito and save him. The woman bowed to him slowly.

“Emperor…Vector…I presume?” she said. “I anticipated your arrival.”

She must be someone important to Vector. Eugeo had never thought of Vector as more than a god; here, he seemed to just be the ruler of the Dark Territory, based on the way this woman approached him so casually. He picked himself up. He’d been sitting, it seemed. He took a glance down at his body. Strange clothes, the likes of which he couldn’t easily describe—they were nothing like the clothing of the Human Empire. They were dark colors and draped him like robes. Somehow, he found himself laughing.

Darker colors always suited Kirito better, he thought.

“Does something amuse you, my lord?” the woman asked.

Eugeo straightened up. He didn’t know how to talk to her. “With authority” was the obvious answer here. But Eugeo’s only experience with being a figure of authority extended to mentoring his page, Tiese. This woman clearly wasn’t a swordswoman-in-training of powerless noble background. The way she held herself suggested that she, too, held authority over someone. He just had to assert himself as the superior here. Otherwise, she might walk all over him.

“There’s someone I need to reach in the Human Empire.”

The woman’s eyes widened.

“Are you suggesting an attack, Emperor Vector?”

He didn’t like that name. It reminded him of darkness. No, that wasn’t quite it. That’s what he’d called Kirito when he’d first met him, not realizing that his friend wasn’t really someone with no memory—a lost child of Vector. Funny, that a darkness god’s name should bring Kirito to mind. Kirito wasn’t someone filled with darkness.

Or was he?

Those men had spoken of saving his Fluctlight—they’d used that term to refer to the human soul. A funny, foreign-sounding word to Eugeo’s ears. Something was wrong with Kirito’s soul. What else could that be but darkness? He had the key to fixing it. His own touch. He gazed down at his hand for a brief moment, feeling devastated that he couldn’t just appear before him now and brush his fingers against Kirito’s skin. How could he explain this situation—this need to reach out and touch Kirito and save him from the darkness—to this woman, whose name he didn’t even know?

Their eyes met. She was testing him. Her words indicated that she knew him to be her leader, but her body language tipped him off that he needed to be wary. She wanted an attack. And according to the men he’d spoken with before, an attack would have to happen in order for him to reach Kirito. What other choice did he have, then? He gave her a curt nod.

“I don’t see any other way of getting to him,” Eugeo said. “Integrity Knights will likely stand in our way. They’re guarding him in the north.”

The woman shifted her weight.

“Our only way to attack is through the gate on the eastern border of the mountains,” she said. “You plan to fight your way into the north?”

Eugeo nodded once more, this time with more feeling.

“I do.”

He turned to fully face her, making sure to stand at his full height.

“What is your name?”

Her lips curled up into a smile. She bowed again.

“D.I.L., Emperor Vector,” she said. “The leader of the Dark Arts guild.”

He had to keep himself from shuddering at the thought of dark arts. They were likely the Dark Territory’s answer to sacred arts. He might not be able to get away with using sacred arts around her, although he hoped he wouldn’t have to delve into that.

“Well, then, D.I.L.,” he said. “We shouldn’t wait around here. We have an empire to invade.”

If he kept his eye on the goal, then, and only then, would he be redeemed.

All of this chaos for the sake of one man. The burning feeling that used to throb in his eye when he went against the Taboo Index was long gone—now, he just felt guilt as he stared at the battle before him. He’d caused this. He was only acting this way for his mission, and he kept telling himself that he couldn’t distract himself from the goal. This was no different than going against the Axiom Church, after all.

The further he plowed through the battlefield, the more his desire to reach out and touch Kirito grew. He barely understood this feeling. At what point had he lost sight of saving his soul? He barely thought of that. The thought of his hand grasping Kirito’s once more drove him onwards. The thought gnawed at his consciousness, impeding his thoughts.

A knight he wasn’t familiar with flew at him, tossing what looked like a throwing knife at him. Eugeo lifted his sword and deflected it. This Vector account or whatever those men had called it proved its worth in battle. His strength might have been more in this instance than it when he himself was converted into an Integrity Knight. He was grateful that it would likely keep him alive until he reached Kirito.

The knight wasn’t finished with him after that, though. He, a young boy who had to be physically a handful of years younger than Eugeo, threw a second knife out. The first one glided back to his hand. He reached out and plucked it out of the air expertly. If not for the obvious flinch in his eyes, Eugeo might have thought he didn’t fear such a sharp, deadly weapon at all. Eugeo slowly approached the boy.

“I don’t want to kill you,” he said. “Kirito wouldn’t like that.”

The boy’s eyes widened just a little bit.

“Kiri…to?”

Eugeo pointed his sword at the young knight. He couldn’t hurt him. Even if he was wrong. Whatever they’d done to Kirito, he knew, deep down, that Kirito would protest killing even a single one of these knights.

“They’re fighting for what they think is right, too.”

His fingers gripped the sword tightly.

“Please. Let me pass.”

The boy stared at him, wide-eyed and unsure of what to do. Eugeo’s sword wavered uncertainly. This boy could strike him down here and now. His hesitation was all the knight needed in order to slay him. But the boy was frozen, as if Eugeo cast a spell on him. He stood there, still as a stone, until finally, his lips moved.

“What do you want with Kirito?”

“RENRI!”

Before Eugeo could respond to the boy, another knight flew at him from his left. He thrust his sword up to block the incoming blow. Blonde hair whipped in the wind and golden armor glinted at him, both wrapped around a woman whose deep, blue eyes were filled with righteous anger. He did his best not to falter when he recognized her. He had to defend himself. This wasn’t about her anymore. This was about Kirito! Kirito was the one he wanted to hold!

“Let…me…PASS!” he shouted, digging his heels into the ground.

He shoved her sword back, putting his full strength into pushing against her brute force. She glared into his eyes. He glared back. Her scowl deepened for a moment, but then, to his surprise, her brow softened.

“Please…let me pass…” he whispered.

There was no way she could hear him. His words had been too quiet. His plea had been tossed to the wind—a selfish desire that only he could care about. There was no way Alice, the woman standing between him and Kirito, would understand this. He prepared himself for an attack when he felt her pull back, but she just dropped her sword and stared at him in disbelief.

Eugeo’s chance was now. He had both of their attention.

“I don’t want to hurt either of you.”

Alice took a step forward. Eugeo lifted his sword, aiming it at her neck.

“But I will if you force me to.”

She took another step forward.

“Your eyes…” she breathed.

He winced. He lowered his sword just a bit. She stopped about an arm’s length away from him. Her mouth was open in shock.

“Eu…Eugeo?”

#Fanfic Request #fanfic #my fanfic #sao fanfiction #2k words for 2k kudos #eugeo #kirito #yujikiri #alice #renri #kikuoka #higa #D.I.L.

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hypertensiongamedev · 7 years ago

Note

You are a source of inspiration..Any recommendations if someone wanted to make a game of their own? (I.e what programs to use, things to look out for, etc)

I’ll get the expected answers out first. Here’s the programs I use (and the plugins I use for each of those):

Blender, which I use for modeling, rigging, and animating

Rigify plugin for rig creation (this comes bundled with Blender, you just have to enable it)

RetopoFlow for retopologizing high-poly to low-poly (has a free version in Github, the paid version just entitles you to technical support)

Substance Painter for texturing (this sometimes goes on sale on Steam, so watch out for it every time Steam goes on a discount sale)

Photoshop CC for creating GUI art, and image manipulation needs ($10 per month sounds fair for all the things it could do for me)

Unity for the game engine

StrangeIoC, an open-source code framework (I explain what it is exactly here)

TextMesh Pro for the GUI labels (free)

ShaderForge for making my own shaders (used to be paid, but it’s now free)

InControl, for user customization of controls (has an old, free version in github)

Unity’s Post-processing Stack for visual effects (free)

A custom AI plugin that I made, called INTLord

A custom game editing tool I made that I simply call Attack Editor (for now)

Visual Studio Community Edition (the free version) for the IDE

Resharper plugin for VS is immensely helpful for me (this is pretty expensive, but worth it for me as I use C# heavily)

Git for backup and version control

I use Git Extensions as the front-end GUI

Dropbox and Google Drive for backing up other things like raw art assets

Portable Kanban for keeping a todo list (I can recommend HacknPlan for an online alternative)

But I think the number one thing to look out for here is that, while it seems I’m able to do this game with ease, I can assure you that it is not smooth sailing all the time. I’m only sharing the end result of my work each time I post. All the mistakes and errors I encounter, I tend to discard and not share, but only because I think no one cares to really read about them. My point here is that even when I tell you what programs I use, just using those won’t guarantee you success.

If you’re having a hard time making a game, that doesn’t mean you’re not cut out for this, because I have a hard time too. It’s an inescapable part of something as complex as game development. I think what really makes a person not cut out for this, is when they give up easily when encountering difficult problems, like an overwhelmingly confusing bug, or getting a crash and finding out your work got corrupted. The proper response here is to approach problems methodically instead, and take steps so you tend to not encounter those things again in the future.

Don’t expect to get things perfectly the first time, but do take time and effort to improve each time you blunder.

There’s one pattern I see a lot with beginners who never get far: they love to complain. Don’t end up like that. If after all your best effort and research, things still don’t work, then I can finally concede that you have the right to complain.

These beginners would blame the engine, the programming language, or the art tool if something goes haywire, when, majority of the time, the mistake was their misunderstanding what the tool was for, and a way to solve it was in the user manual. So make sure you’ve done your homework before going on a rant.

Second thing: Practice a lot. They build your skill set. If you have no idea where to start, I suggest just making a simple game like tic-tac-toe in the game engine of your choice. The point here isn’t to build something amazing, it’s to get your feet wet with the tools you’re using. You’ll be doing it more to learn how to get graphics drawn on the screen, how to detect and react to user-input, how to code gameplay logic, etc.

The fact that you’re making a simple tic-tac-toe game helps ease the difficulty curve of trying out a new game engine. Then work out how to put a main menu on it, a highscore that gets saved to a text file, etc.

Then try out making a tetris game, then a side-scrolling platformer, etc. The more familiar you get with your tools, the easier it is to create more and more complex things.

There’s a theory out there that the amount of vocabulary you have with your spoken language influences what you tend to say (or even think!). I think it’s the same with you and your gamedev tools. You might have never gotten around to doing some crazy idea you had, simply because, lacking knowledge in your tools, you didn’t think it was possible.

I do game jam games to try out learning something new.

One thing you need to realize is, if you’re not having fun doing the nitty-gritty details of these steps in game-making, maybe you should reconsider your choice of wanting to make games, because this is how it is all of the time. Or probably at least consider specializing in one aspect instead, and get help with the rest.

The third thing to look out for is having no direction. What really helped me out with making this game is having a clear goal of what I want: a 3d action game about the last days of a terminally-ill henshin hero, taking place in a modern day city.

When you have no clear goal, you have no idea if what you’re currently doing is beneficial or detrimental to your game. You would have no yardstick to measure progress.

It’s fine to experiment without having decided yet what the game will look like, or what genre you’re going for, but I think even among experiments, the good ones are those that have at least some general direction of what they’re trying to test or prove.

This is the earliest photo I could find of my work on the game, dated 2014, Dec. 31. On my pen tablet display there is my early concept for Desparo.

There’s a lot of things to consider when deciding to make a game. I myself was thinking whether I make this game a turn-based, or a real-time action RPG. I was also wondering if I should do it in 2d or 3d, if I go with anime or realistic art style, etc.

I knew I needed to finalize my decisions if I ever hope to progress. I think the proper way to have done it would have been to make a turn-based RPG prototype alongside an action RPG prototype, and then compare the two. But in the end I just went ahead with the real-time action game, simply because I wanted to try out something new.

Sometimes, you start out making a game prototype with just boxes, and deciding it has potential, flesh it out further by attaching a theme/story/premise behind it. I think that’s also a viable approach. It just so happened Ghost Knight Victis started the other way around, with the story first before the gameplay.

And how do you get that spark of an idea of what your game should be? My game’s premise was a culmination of several ideas that have been brewing in my mind for a long time (years). After going through something pretty significant in my life and one lonely December, with two bottles of Tequila and playing through Transistor, all the incongruent ideas started making sense and fit together.

I’m not saying people need to go beat themselves up just to get something “cool”. In fact, if you have a content and happy life, consider yourself lucky if you couldn’t find inspiration to create something really artistic. Because those things tend to come from some deeply-buried, strong feeling, like anger or resentment. Then again, dealing with such thoughts are a normal challenge of growing up, living in a community, or even something as mundane as struggling with where to get a stable income. You just need to change your perspective on where inspiration comes from.

Fourth is to pace yourself properly. Match your expectations with what you can do at the moment. Aim too far out of your comfort zone, and you’ll likely fail, get discouraged, and stop trying. The trick is to aim only a little bit outside your comfort zone. You still compel yourself to improve, but at the same time, it’s a manageable amount of work for you.

Scrum and Kanban are the usual things to learn about here. I personally use Kanban a lot. The idea is simple:

As a task gets further along to completion, the more it moves to the right. But, you have one restriction: only up to 3 tasks at a time can be in the “Doing” column.

This means if you are already devoted to working on 3 tasks in the “Doing” column, and you want to work on something new, you have to finish at least one of those 3 first. This makes you concentrate on getting things done. It stops you from diluting your focus, trying to work on too many things at a time.

You could also decide to move a task from “Doing” back to the “Ready” column. But I normally do it only when either I realize something else is of more importance and I need to stop what I was doing, or perhaps I’m stumped and really can’t progress on that task, in which case I give up and swap it for a different task instead.

Scrum has a lot of techniques, but one thing I take from it is the idea of sprints. You do your work in a per 2-week period, called a sprint. On the start of each sprint, you decide what you will get done, and commit to finishing those tasks within 2 weeks. After those 2 weeks, you again pick which tasks to do for the next 2 weeks, and so on. This is also a method to help you focus on getting things done, because you only concentrate on a few tasks at a time, but it also forces you to take a look at the bigger picture and re-prioritize after every 2 weeks.

In my case, I don’t have 2 weeks. My sprint is only 2 days: every weekend. So I make sure each task I write in a card is achievable within 2 days. If I think a task can’t be finished in 2 days, I divide it into several subtasks.

For example, “obtaining items from chests” might be too complex, so I could divide that to these subtasks:

being able to define chests as a list of the items inside it, and being able to save that data to file

being able to place chests in the map, each chest being: a 3d model of the chest, and the data file saying what items are inside it

create the GUI art for viewing items inside a chest

put the GUI art in-game and adding code to allow it to react to user-input

implement the code for transferring items from a chest to the player’s inventory and vice-versa

Fifth is to concentrate on having a working, playable work-in-progress.

The thing to aim for here is that at the end of each sprint, whatever progress you make should be something that works in-game. It’s fine if you don’t get that all the time, but I think aiming for it helps pull everything towards that direction.

I think this video of Bayonetta’s prototype says a lot:

youtube

For reference, here’s how the final product looks like:

youtube

You can see from that prototype video that you can already start working on the gameplay even if you don’t have the art finalized yet (because the art can take a long time to get done).

I think that’s the wiser method of doing things, you get a playable work-in-progress without being stalled by the fact that the art is incomplete. It’s even better because it’s easier to adjust animations while they’re still rough: it’s less motions to re-arrange and tweak whenever you need to adjust it.

It’s also not good to base your judgement of how correct an animation is from just looking at it in Blender/Maya/etc. alone, because you aren’t seeing it being used in-game. For all you know, the sword attack you’ve been polishing for so many days doesn’t really work because the arc of the sword swing doesn’t really reach the intended target! Or maybe you didn’t realize that the swing is making the sword pass through the ground mesh unintentionally!

Or maybe there’s certain situations where your animation really just needs to be tweaked (when fighting inside narrow hallways, or when you are standing on a flight of stairs & attacking a target below you, etc.). It’s really better to test it out in-game as soon as you’ve established the key frames of your animation.

Frankly, this is something that I should learn to do myself!

And what about for the story? I think this is a neat trick in designing a prototype for your game’s story:

youtube

(the video’s about half an hour long, but it’s worth it)

The basic gist is that you design a “board game” out of your game’s story. And I think that’s the proper way to do things. There’s really more to it than what I just said, so I encourage you all to watch that video.

Sixth is to handle feedback as objectively as you can. As a solo developer, you will tend to see your game as your “baby”, something that in your eyes is a flawless creation.

Maybe you expect players to always do something, but turns out it never crosses their minds at all. That might be a symptom that you need to fix your game’s design.

Be clear with what you are asking feedback for. Just posting screenshots, and a vague “this is my game, suggestions and feedback are welcome!” will not help, because people will tend to give you suggestions that are not in line with the goal you have set in mind for the game, and you end up sounding defensive trying to explain things.

Explain your intent with what you’re specifically showing, and ask for feedback if people think your work achieved that intent or not. But start with a 2 to 3 sentence blurb that describes the premise of your game, to set the tone. Here’s a good tutorial for that.

Take the time to appreciate when people praise you, but don’t let it get to your head.You shouldn’t keep yourself in a circle full of yes-men, you will just not improve there. On the other hand, don’t think that just because you’re being the target of verbal abuse that you are finally getting the so-called brutally honest feedback.

You really have to ignore the emotional parts of what people post, good or bad. Read between the lines of what’s being said, to find the truly useful feedback you want for improvement (if there is even any in their posts).

But don’t just follow every suggestion that comes along your way. Sift through it and think about why someone said what they said.

In my first playable demo, many were complaining that the player should be allowed to move more responsively, to be able to cancel attacks into movement. But that went against my intention of giving it a Dark Souls type of combat (instead of a Dynasty Warriors style of combat).

I realized, people were having that problem because I placed far too many enemies in the level. No one suggested that I lessen the amount of enemies, but that was really my mistake with that one.

So there really was a problem, but their suggestion was not the best way to fix it.

Another example: When Magicka was still being developed, some beta testers complained that friendly fire ruins the experience, and kept suggesting to remove it, or at least have the option to disable it. But the developers doubled down on their decision to have friendly-fire, because friends hitting each other was part of the humor that they wanted to achieve, so they decided to leave it there, and they were right.

I’ll end all of this by saying, this is only my way of doing things. It’s perfectly reasonable if you discover a different way that works for you!

I always keep a bottle of Tequila handy under my desk.

#tips #gamedev #indiedev

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gcncsxs · 7 years ago

Text

Never Believe Fortune Tellers

Where: On the Road/ At the Beach Who: Dutch Monroe & Scott Turner What: Scott and Dutch get on each others nerves.

tagging @ofpersephone, thread taken from discord

Scott Turner

"Okay, so like..." Scott waited to gather his thoughts, "...apparently a fortune teller told my parents they were gonna be together forever. And that, my friend, is why I don't believe in fucking fortune tellers." A tent at the side of the pavement had started Scott's spiel, and he chugged on his beer, he reckoned it was for good reason. "Forever doesn't even exist."

Dutch Monroe

Dutch was only half listening, this road trip had been her friends idea and she was the only person in the car that she knew. She sipped on her own beer, she didn't even know where the beers had come from, whether someone in the car was twenty one or if they were purchased with fake ID's - either way, she didn't really care. "Forever exists. Soulmates don't."

Scott Turner

"Oh yeah?" Scott turned to face the voice. He had called shotgun, and didn't even leave his seat; a victory he had mentioned a lot over the trip. He hadn't quite recognized her, but he knew she was in the same college, probably. "Try telling that to a dying guy or something. I'm just saying, life is too fucking short to fall in love. The whole concept of soulmates? Just as bullshit as going to church to get onto God's good side." Oh, another vice of his; his nihilistic point of view. His friends were probably familiar with his sentiments, as he got elbowed and booed by the car. But he kept his eyes on the newcomer, she was interesting.

Dutch Monroe

A few months back Elizabeth would never have found herself in a car with these people, she'd been a popular girl one that hung out with the football team and joined sororities. Dutch on the other hand couldn't give a shit about any of that anymore, she's dropped all pretenses and found that these kids she had once called losers were probably more interesting than she could ever have thought. She didn't know the boy in the front seat, she'd never seen him before, but then again bar Carly she didn't actually know any of them. "Just because a man is dying doesn't mean the world stops spinning, forever is a measure of time - and endless measure of time. Time will go on long after we're dead, forever exists - just not for us." She eventually met the boys eyes, they were kind eyes, full of adventure she'd decided. "Love in any form is fleeting. It's temporary. It's not made to last." That too received her a reaction from the car, but she shrugged and turned to look out the window.

Scott Turner

"Well, if it isn't for us, does it really exist? Maybe I'm being selfish, but I'd like to think that forever is a personal space. But when you give someone else your forever, that's when you know you're doomed. Shakespeare literally left the world a warning letter, in the form of Romeo and Juliet." Scott wasn't afraid of confrontation. These people in the car, they were his best friends. They knew where he came from, and he never hid it from them. And even this newcomer was going to see what he was made of. No, Scott didn't want to scare her. He just wanted to see how far he had to push her buttons to get a rise out her. If there was anything in the world Scott hated, it was mysteries. In the form of people or books, it didn't matter. When she caught his eyes, he looked away; he was the people watcher, not her. "Love isn't meant to last. You know, I actually kinda agree with that. All love stems from lust, which happens to be a sin. So my dudes, just stop having sex already." He smirked, finishing the last of his beer as the car snickered and chuckled. The long haired boy looked at her again from the side-view mirror, to see if she too, had found him funny.

Dutch Monroe

"You could say that about a million dollars. I can almost guarantee that no one in this car will ever see a million dollars in their life, no offense -- does that mean a million dollars doesn't exist? There are tree's standing tall on this earth that have been around for a million years, an unless we chop them down, they'll stand a million more, how can you not believe in the concept of forever?" It was fair to say that Dutch honestly didn't care if she offended anyone in this car, or whether they even liked her. She'd admitted to herself that they might have been better company that the assholes she once considered her friends, but that didn't mean she was going to bend over backwards to please them either, not anymore. Her face remained blank, like she felt nothing - almost as if she were bored- but as he turned away she felt a smirk tug at the corner of her lips, a tiny gleam of self achievement. It was however short lived, and she rolled her eyes. "What's the fucking point of anything if you can have sex? Whether you believe in love, and soulmates, or whether it's just mindless fucking. That's a sin I'm down to keep committing."

Scott Turner

"Intangibility, my dude. Intangibility. Forever is an idea, that no one will experience. A million dollars, you can see it, you can imagine what to do with it. A tree? Someone's ought to have seen it, or heard about it. Isn't that a tree is tangible and a figure of speech not?" The people in the car would hate them for sure; the ride was long and Scott wasn't going to back down from what he considered a call to arms, in a whimsical sense. But he had to admit, he liked her style. Chuckling to her response, he decided to let her have that moment. He watched the people in the backseat high five her or whatever, before he spoke again. "Well, no one's stopping you. My biggest sin is probably envy, and I will never stop being envious of the elusive one percent. No one's stopping you. But once you get invested, you get hurt. Take something from it, new blood." Scott leaned back, closing his eyes as he nodded along to whatever the aux cord was playing now.

Dutch Monroe

"You could imagine what you'd do with forever too." She replied simply, taking a sip of the beer on her hand. She hated the taste of beer but drank it anyway. "Yeah, sure but if you've never seen it does that mean it doesn't exist? If you can believe in the tree, why can't you believe in forever?" It was a stupid conversation, a pointless argument that neither would probably win. It was a point of belief and everyone believed in something different, they might as well have been arguing about the existence of God, and whilst she wouldn't let it rile her up, she wasn't about to let him think he won without a fight either. Her final comment seemed to rally the car on her side, and she high fives them all back half heartedly. "You're obviously weak willed if you get invested every time you fuck someone. If you never sleep with the same person twice, you can't get invested. Take something from that."

Scott Turner

There were some opinions being thrown around, about imagining immortality and vampires. Scott loved his friends; this little group of thinkers, of nobodies. He was thinking of what to say next. It had to be clever, but not like he was trying too hard. God knows his friends would think this as a mating call. "Believing in forever is like believing in Santa. I'd rather believe in a tree, dude." The boy wanted another beer, the empty bottle in his hand feeling like dead weight. And with her comment on sex and feelings, Scott had to admit he was a little jealous about how easily she had won his friends over. A fleeting feeling passed, replaced by ugly anger. It made him think of his mom and his non-existant father. Did he feel the same way too? His jaw clenched tight, before he swallowed his anger and eased into a smirk. "But that's your feelings alone. What about your partner's, though? What if they feel the need to 'attach' themselves to you?"

Dutch Monroe

She listen with mild interest at the comments and discussions being made, laughing along when she deemed something worthy. Dutch wasn't a snob, she might have been at one time and old ha it's died hard, but that wasn't the reason why she seemed distant and cold. She didn't get attached, she had learnt how fleeting relationships could be, romantic or platonic. Friends came and went, she could count on one hand the high school friends she still kept in touch with, and that's not to mention the so called friends she'd lost after 'he' had left her a broken little mess. "Believe in the tree, believe in Santa, believe in forever. It doesn't matter, we'll never know the truth. Not unless we do become vampires." She added with a smirk to the friend in the car that had mentioned that possibility. "Pretty sure my partners are in the same mindset, and if they're not - that's their problem. More fool them."

Scott Turner

There was no winning with this girl. And Scott could keep arguing. He was a catalyst, an antagonist. It was hard to agree with new people, and he didn't want to show the new girl that he would back down without a fight. "Maybe we should join a cult. Make up our rules to immortality. Try and live forever, ya know? It'll be fun to start a cult too." His only input, was met by logistics and critisism. He watched her, saw her snobbish nature and wondered why she was here. Not like she had to agree with the group, but Scott found it funny that she didn't. "It's only human to want to stay attached to someone. Maternal instincts predate our ancestors, when sex was for procreation alone, and raising a family unit was important for survival. Can't blame the poor blokes who come again at your door, now can ya?"

Dutch Monroe

"Cults are for idiots." She replies simply, not caring if the comment insulted the boy that sat up front. That was all she had to say on the matter, and all she would say on the matter - even if it ended the conversation there. She wound down the window, letting the cool autumn air whip through her hair and then launched her can out the window. She closed her eyes, feeling the breeze against her cheeks, breathing in the clear air. "No - you're right. I can't. But doesn't mean I have to return the sentiment."

Scott Turner

"Cults are not for idiots. Look at the Illuminati. I think they're doing pretty well for themselves, and they are huge." But Scott found that people who gave up were lame to debate with. He was kind of tired of their argument. Saying nothing in response, all the boy did was lean back in his seat and let the conversation flow till they reached the beach. He didn't even know the girl's name, and here he was, thinking up other bones to pick with her.

Dutch Monroe

Dutch scoffed at his mention of the Illuminati. "If you believe they still exist, you're also an idiot." She rolled her eyes, reaching for another beer from the cooler. We friend gave her a look, and she shrugged. She hadn't come on this trip to make friends; she'd come because her friend had begged her and because she promised there would be beer. She didn't care what anyone in this car thought of her, especially not the argumentative douche in the front seat.

Scott Turner

Maybe he'd be the bigger person and not reply back. Only if Scott was interested in being the bigger person here. He was going to start a tangent on the socio-economic status of cult culture, if it wasn't for his friend holding him back with a glare. "What? Her welcoming committee not warm enough?" He spat back. But Scott wasn't angry with her or whatever; he just wanted to get to know her. In his own, weird way.

Dutch Monroe

Dutch looked around the car, her friends glare enough to make even her feel small, if only for a moment. She looked back, giving the silent scolding a shrug before leaning forward. Her elbow rest on her knee and she extended her hand out to the boy sat in front. "Dutch." She introduced herself, a name she'd claimed not been given. One she'd taken from her mothers heritage in replacement for the name she felt no longer fit, the name that felt like it belonged to someone that was now dead.

Scott Turner

Scott was pretty much lost in his thoughts, but the hand brought him back to the car. Her hand. And now he knew was called Dutch; this was more than exciting to him. "Dutch. That's catchy. I'm Scott, but most people call me Asshole. Or a dick." He smirked, shaking her hand firmly. He wanted to say something more, maybe a skewered version of an apology for being said dick to her. But then, Scott realised he was holding onto her hand for longer than necessary and dropped it, like a hot potato. There was no need to be nice to someone who probably wasn't going to stick around for too long.

Dutch Monroe

She'd been concentrating on their hands at first, listening as he introduced himself. Nodding along in agreement at his statement. She had to agree with said people, he was a dick. But then she looked up, meeting his eyes, and if she had been a romantic she might have said that time stood still - but it hadn't, but they had been holding hands for an awkward amount of time. He dropped her hand at the exact same time as she dropped his, and she automatically withdrew - wiping her palm on her jeans. "I'd say it's nice to meet you, but I'd be lying." She replied, looking down at her beer - hoping he'd catch on to the fact that she was mostly joking, despite her tone of voice being flat. He'd not been the most welcoming, but at least he'd been entertaining.

Scott Turner

He'd only seen her eyes in the reflection of the sideview mirror but up close and personal, her eyes were much more expressive. Dutch looked more human, with feelings and tangibility. With hands that felt strange in his own, and when they broke apart, Scott felt like he lost the connection and she became somewhat two dimensional again. At her statement, he laughed. "You know I don't like liars. But it's cool, I get that all the time." The driver chimed in with his own introduction story and he half smiled, looking at her one last time.

Dutch Monroe

Dutch smirked, turning her attention back to the beer in her hand. Everyone introduced themselves after that and she nodded in greeting to most of them, but she didn't shake hands with anyone else. She kept those firmly curled around the luke warm can. She didn't look at Scott in the front seat again, and for the rest of the journey she sat in silence. Half listening to the conversations the rest of the car were having. They eventually arrived at the beach, and all occupants of the car tumbled out - a little tipsy but mostly excited. Dutch however stayed in the car.

Scott Turner

And Scott was too busy singing along to the car radio, all the way through the classic rock stations. Any sign of him being ruffled up by Dutch was long gone and when he saw the beach, he was the first to tumble out the car. He quickly proceeded to strip down to his shorts before noticing they had left a man behind. "Don't you wanna join us? I promise there's more beer here!"

Dutch Monroe

Dutch tugged on her sleeves when Scott called out to her. Why had she agreed to come to the goddamn beach? It was the very last place she wanted to be on s good day, let alone with people she barely knew. "Uh, I'm good in the car. Not a fan of sand or sea."

Scott Turner

"Don't have to take your clothes off. Just yell at us for being stupid for jumping into the cold water." Scott wasn't going to take no for an answer, even if he was going to have to drag her till the shore. "The sand in your feet? Amazing feeling. C'mon, don't be a spoil sport, Dutch." The name flowed out like he was calling Chris or his other friends. She was...a friend, yeah?

Dutch Monroe

"I can do that from here." She yelled, making a point of raising her voice to prove just how loud she could be. She settled herself back into the seat, kicking her feet up so they rest through the open window of the open car door. "Sand in other places however, not an amazing feeling. Someone had to be the spoil sport, or y'all would have far too much fun!"

Scott Turner

"If I can't bring a girl to the beach, then I'll bring the beach to the girl." Scott was calm, a plan formulating in his head as he pulled the cooler out the back and for his friends. He was then gone for a while, in the water with his friends. And then he disappeared, collecting wet sand and beach water. Oh, if he wasn't stubborn, he wasn't Scott.

Dutch Monroe

Dutch was about to protest about she wasn't his girl, but he was already rushing around doing god knows what. She watched him for a few minutes before getting bored, he had run off into the sea and she had decided he'd given up on whatever it was he'd been talking about, so she took out her phone and put in her headphones, reading a e-book she'd downloaded.

Scott Turner

Scott was tempted to dump the cooler on her, through the open window. But that would just ruin their only ride. Looking down at his mixture of sea water and sand, he decided to go simpler. Trying to be as stealthy as possible, Scott's plan was to dump the water on her shoes. In his head, it wasn't as petty as one could think. He just wanted to show her how much fun the beach could be.

Dutch Monroe

Dutch hadn't noticed his return, too engrossed in the book that had captured her attention, and not hearing him over the music that blasted through her headphones. Something, however, out of the corner of her eye caught her attention and she glanced up - catching just the top of his head through the window of the car. "What the fuck are you doing?"

Scott Turner

Scott had to act fast, he had been spotted. So he panicked and threw the water at mostly the car door and hoped he had splashed her shoes before dropping the cooler and running off. There was a snort, maybe even signs of a real laughter, as he waited for her to chase him. Or something. Scott wasn't quite sure how Dutch would react.

Dutch Monroe

The water splashed against the car door, sand too. Most of landed on the outside of the car, but a lot had drenched her shoes and some had even made its way through the open window into her lap. "What the ever loving shit?!" She screeched, withdrawing her feet back into the car as she ripped her headphones out her ears and launched her phone onto the seat next to her. She'd never gotten out of a car so damn fast in her life, and soon she was somewhat uncharacteristically chasing the boy who was laughing as he ran away. "I swear to God, I'm going to drown you in the sea."

Scott Turner

"You're going to have to get into the sea to do that." Over the years, Scott had taught himself to swim. Left to his own devices when he was growing up, he had become somewhat of an expert swimmer. Not quite swim team worthy, but enough to keep him from drowning. He ran towards the water, already foamy and surprisingly cool, splashing and laughing as he looked back to watch for her. He had to slow down on account of the water, but he wasn't going to give the girl the satisfaction of waiting.

Dutch Monroe

Dutch was a determined girl, especially these days and when she set her mind to something she usually did whatever it took. And though she might have been slightly damp in places after his stunt she wasn't about to dive head first into the water after him. She stopped at the line where the sand turned wet from the lapping waves and watched him dart into the water. She then marched back up the beach to where their friends were sat laughing at the scene and snatched up the pile of clothing they grassed up as his. "Two can play your games Asshole!" She shouted out to him as she marched back towards the sea, crossing over onto the wet sand and right into the water. Her feet were already wet, it didn't bother her at this point, and one by one she dropped his clothing into the water.

Scott Turner

Oh, she was petty. Scott watched the tiny girl dump his clothes into the ocean, from a safe distance but nevertheless, he 'oomph'ed like he was in pain. The clothes would never dry and he'd probably have to go home naked. But at least she was out of the car though, and Scott still had something to be smug about. "Spare the clothes, dude! That's an entire month's worth of laundary!" He shouted back as she threw the last of it into the water, clothes adrift with the waves. He would have to go grab those eventually, wouldn't he?

Dutch Monroe

Dutch flipped him the bird as she threw the last article of his clothing into the water, in her mind she'd won this battle and she didn't even care that he'd likely have to make the journey home either naked or wearing uncomfortably wet clothing. "Karma. I hear she's a bitch." She shouted in return, walking backwards out of the waves as the clothes drifted away. "I'd rescue them quickly if I were you, before the jellyfish steal your socks!" And on that final note she sashayed up the beach to where their friends sat and grabbed another beer, feeling real happy with herself.

Scott Turner

"Fuck you!" Scott screamed at her back, and got to collecting his clothes. Lost an argument and now dry clothes? He was getting soft on her and that would not do. But first, he needed to dry his clothes. Laying them on the sand, he sat guard beside them, giving Dutch the stink eye as he did so. The beach was mostly deserted; who the hell would blow off classes to come down to the shore five something miles from their campus? Unless they were absolute idiots they wouldn't. "Ay yo ma, pass me a beer, won't you?" He was addressing mostly Dutch, provoking her again.

Dutch Monroe

Dutch turned her back to the childish boy when he returned to the beach, she wasn't about to play any further into his games, and so instead turned all her attention to his friends, making more effort to be nice to them now than she had in the car. When he called out for a beer she rolled her eyes, one of his mates reached to grab him one from the cooler but she got their first. Giving the can a subtle but firm shake, out of view, before tossing it in his direction.

Scott Turner

Scott caught the can in his hands, walking to the crowd gathered at the shore. He was pretty sure that the tiny girl was not above spitting in his drink, but he was not about let her win. "Thanks Dutch." He sat down beside her, letting the sunlight dry him up. "Liking it so far? The water looks pretty good, doesn't it?" He was careful not to drip near her, not to get her clothes wet. Maybe he needed to be nice to get her to open up. "So...what do you think?"

Dutch Monroe

"It's a beach." She replied flatly, face trying not to give away that she was waiting on baited breath for him to actually open the can. "It's the sea. If you've seen it once, you've seen all there is to see." It was a negative insight on such a beautiful view but Dutch honestly found that things like this were less enjoyable to her now.

Scott Turner

"You see a beach, I see possibilities. Look at the horizon, and it feels like a metaphor for your life. Come on, dude. Who hurt your imagination?" Scott opened the can of beer, giving her the satisfaction of punking him when the can splashed all over him. "Cheers!"

Dutch Monroe

She would have laughed with everyone else when the can exploded, frothy beer splattering him, but his last question had sent her reeling slightly. She looked out over the horizon, the sea went on forever past that point, endless and open and she knew that - but all she saw was the line where the sea met the sky and saw it as a line unable to cross. The end of the world. Eventually she turned to him and shrugged. "Same guy who taught me love ain't real."

Scott Turner

"It's still good beer, idiots!" Scott responded to the laughter as he took a swig from his can. He was laughing, expecting Dutch to own her moment with some sort of triumph. But she was in her own bubble, and then she mentioned some guy. "Love ain't real, but friendship is. Shit like friendship is forged, and you're allowed to bargain. Love is stupid, and it's doing the tango on America's Got Talent, especially when you have no talent. So fuck that. You can't let shit like that dictate your life. Trust me, I know." He wasn't going to outwardly mention his mother, not right then anyway. God knows she must have heard that same speech a million times before him. "You've got friends right? 'Cos it would suck if we were your only friends."

Dutch Monroe

Dutch had no idea what he was talking about, but the way he said it sounded passionate. Like he was really trying to convince her, whatever his point was. "Nothing and no one dictates my life anymore. I do what I want, who I want, when I want. I have friends - and yes, more than you sorry lot." There was a wave of comical outcry from the group, dramatic as always but she smirked with an incline of her head to show she was joking. Truth was Dutch didn't have many friends, not here - not anymore. Her friends were from home, and they had their own lives. Mellie at home and Abi at college on the other side of the country.

Scott Turner

"Good. I don't like you either." Scott smirked at her, taking another swig of his beer. It was nice though; Dutch wasn't like the other friends. While he loved them to death, he wanted her to stay. He liked their banter, and he definitely liked talking to her. However unfriendly or pissing off Dutch may have been, it was refreshing, a change in scene. Scott often thought himself some sort of Shakespearian character, stuck in a tragedy, still in act one. But maybe now, he was going to shift to another page, another scene. "How come I don't see these friends of yours? Also, follow up question, are you some kind of narc, because I don't think I've seen around campus either, before."

Dutch Monroe

"Glad the feelings mutual." Dutch smirked, picking up a fresh beer for herself, but this point she was feeling merrily buzzed and a little more relaxed with the situation and the group. "Because they don't go here." She replied simply, like it was the most obvious answer to his question. But then she realised that made her sound pretty lame. She then turned to the friend that had invited her along in the first place - "And also because you're blind. Carly is my friend." Carly waved enthusiastically from the other side of the cooler with a laugh. "As for your follow up question, no - not a narc. You probably have seen me, but up until a few months ago I looked pretty different, and hung out with the kind of people you probably avoid like the plague."

Scott Turner

"Good." The taste was weird now, as the beer got warmer and Scott got engrossed in conversation. He tried to ponder, tried to really remember another Dutch; same face, different hair maybe? But different how? Was she blonde? Maybe she had some kind of nose job. Or was it the eyes? He shook his head, "Cannot remember if you were in any of my classes. Weird. I'd avoid like the plague? Well, that's loads of people. I'm Theatre Management and that is one crowd I stay the fuck away from. So I guess you'd have to be a little more specific. Also, to be fair, Carly befriends everyone. It's how she found me, like a stray dog waiting for love at the pound. It's a cool story really." He laughed, blowing a kiss in her general direction.

Dutch Monroe

"We weren't in any of the same classes." Dutch replied confidently, she would have remembered him if they had been. She had a mind for faces, she never forgot them and she hadn't seen him before either. "I'm law, but I was a sorority girl. You're welcome to laugh." She commented, rolling her eyes waiting for it - knowing it was probably inevitable. "So think jocks, and frat boys, and stuck up cheerleader types." It was embarrassing now she thought about it, now she looked back, it had been a shallow life - it had been all about money, looks and privilege. "Well she found me in much the same way. Likes to claim the underdog, don't she?"

Scott Turner

"Ahh, gotcha. Like to argue, don't you? I like to write sonnets and talk shit." When she talked about her past, Scott didn't laugh, and shot a glare to anyone who even attempted to chuckle. "Well, welcome to the real world, princess." He had nothing against the Greek system, but the kind of privileged brats it bred, he was almost tempted to contest their existence. But Dutch here, she wasn't like that. It made him wonder what the hell had happened to her. What kind of catalyst pushed her into this, from what he assumed was a cotton candy princess. "She takes credit for the Losers' Club, because apparently she 'reads', if you know what I mean." Scott then proceeded to laugh at Carly, who flicked him behind the ear. "You're in good hands though. We're just too lazy to find new friends, ya know?"

Dutch Monroe

"I like to see the guilty charged and claim justice for the innocent, but sure - I like to argue too! Can't imagine you as the poetic type, but you've got talking shit down pat." Dutch smirked, clearly playful in meaning. Despite their tepid greeting, Dutch found that the quite liked the strange boy - even if he did tsk to much and asked more questions that she might have liked. "Don't call me princess, dickhead - I'm not some stuck up brat and I'll happily kick your ass, don't test me." She chucked her empty can in his direction, just as Carly flicked him. "Yeah, I mean I haven't decided whether I want to keep you guys yet - but you're growing on me."

Scott Turner

"Yeah, I could tell from the moment I saw you. You have a fighter's face. I can write poetry, okay?" His poems weren't secret, but they weren't shared with everyone. He snickered at that, and shook his head. "Whatever you say, princess. You already drowned my clothes in the ocean. I have nothing to lose." He shrugged at the can, rubbing the spot where Carly attacked him. "We're fungi. Or more like fungis, geddit?"

Dutch Monroe

"Shit. Does that mean I'm getting easy to read? Am I predictable. Fuck - gonna have to work on that. Don't want people figuring me out that easily." Dutch knew however that it wasn't something she could change, her 'fighter's face' was the expression of a broken and damaged girl, one that wouldn't be easily fixed. "Sure, I'll believe it when I see it. Hear it? - whatever. Oh, but your dignity still seems to be intact, you've got that to lose." The Sun was starting to go down, and the group were beginning to pack up for the day. Dutch stood up and unzipped her hoodie and then offered it to Scot, big and baggy it would have fit him comfortable. "No? But I guess it's a good thing I like mushrooms."

Scott Turner

"Shut up. You wear it well." Scott just flipped her bird when she commented on his poetry. Never once was he tempted to share what he wrote with anyone, but Dutch made him want to. Just out of spite, not because he was feeling romantic or some feelings schtick. He picked his own clothes up, damp and sandy; begrudgingly accepting the girl's hoodie and put it on. "Hah, you don't touch a man's dignity, dude. That's the one thing you let him die with, but never abuse." One of the guys laughed, while the others called him lame. "It's like fun guys, you dummy. But hey, at least you paid attention in high school biology."

Dutch Monroe

It was almost a compliment, and if Dutch had been one of those girls that paid much mind to things like that, she might have blushed - bust she wasn't and she didn't. "Well maybe I'm not honourable. I'll take everything I can - dignity and all." She contemplated making a point of embarrassing him for wearing a girls hoodie, but then remember it was in fact a guys hoodie in the first place, and that she'd already made his day hell enough for the time being so kept quiet. "That was pretty lame."

Scott Turner

"Sure, sure. Whatever." Scott was tired; the day had drained him and he was out of quips to direct at Dutch. They packed their things into the trunk, and Scott just put his pants on, damp and all. "Bite me for having bad jokes. I'll let you know, I've got a whooooole arsenal, bitches. Guess who's stand up on the ride home?" He smirked, his eyebrows twitching upwards as a mischievous glint shone in his eyes.

Dutch Monroe

The energy of the entire group was starting to die, everyone was slightly drunk or tired, or both. Dutch herself was slightly buzzed from the beers, but when she was drunk she also got tired. She helped Carly carry the drinks cooler back to the car and load it up, peering round the back of the car to look at him and the others following up behind. "Did you want to knock him out or shall I?"

Scott Turner

Scott just stuck his tongue out at the group as he took his place in the car. Opting for the backseat this time, he decided to grab another beer and drink it on their way back. 'Don't knock it till you try it, babes. Stand up comedy, it rocks. It's either that....or classic rock?"

Dutch Monroe

The group piled into the car, shouting shotgun for their favoured seats - which left Dutch in the back next to Scott. She was about to protest but figured that would make it seemed like she actually cared , or that he was getting to her - so instead she climbed in next to him and pulled out her headphones, looking down as she untangled them. "Go ahead. I'll drown you out either way."

Scott Turner

"'Kay." Came a lacklustre reply from Scott. Maybe all that conversational juice was over, and it bummed Scott that he couldn't engage Dutch into another game or debate. As they drove off, he looked out the window, catching a glimpse of the setting sun before an idea struck him. "Let's play Fortunately, Unfortunately!"

Dutch Monroe

Dutch had already tucked her earphones in and turned her music on, although she didn't turn the music up loud enough to drown anyone out like she'd said she would, so when he spoke she heard him almost clearly over the song playing. "What the hell is fortunately, unfortunately?"

Scott Turner

Scott had to laugh at her question, which might have been mean. Then he realized that she had never really been out with them before. Clearing his throat, he tried to think out what he was about to tell her. "Okay so, one of comes up with a scenario. And then we take turns to add fortunate and unfortunate events to the list. Like, there was a kid with a bike. You start with fortunately yadah yadah yadah, and then Baker here goes with unfortunately yadah yadah yadah. It's simple, you wanna give it a go?”

Dutch Monroe

Dutch tugged the earphones out and they pooled in her lap, the music could still be heard as a low hum as he explained the concept behind the game. "Sure. Fuck it."

Scott Turner-

"Coolbeans! I'll go first!" Baker raised his hand, talking out loud. "Okay, so there once was a girl..." Scott furrowed his eyebrows. "Fortunately, she had a nice family." And then he let the game pass on from there.

Dutch Monroe

The game skipped around the car until it came to Dutch, so far the girls cat had unfortunately died, but she'd fortunately got into the college of her dreams, and then it was Dutch's turn. "However, unfortunately, she fell in love with a jerk who'd make her feel about 2inches tall all the time and bullied her into doing things she didn't want to do, and then he'd break her heart and embarrass her in front of everyone she knew, leaving her with no friends, a severe lack of trust in people, and no faith in love."

Scott Turner

Scott blinked; this had gotten strangely into personal territory, he felt. When none of his friends broke the quick bubble of silence, he decided to speak up. "Fortunately, the girl got her revenge by standing up for herself and proving everything he said to her wrong, all the while getting away with keying his car and throwing rotten eggs through his window."

Dutch Monroe

Dutch had felt her cheeks flush hot as she'd realised she'd got a little carried away on her turn. She'd blame it on the beer if anyone thought to bring it up later, but for the time being their was no avoiding the clearly personal story she'd developed for this hypothetical story. Scott however had quickly picked up on this and continued the game - trying to move things out of awkward territory. The girl in the story now sounded somewhat brave, although still bitter - Dutch was only the latter. She sniffed and wiped her nose on the back of her hand, refusing to look at anyone in the car. Stupid feelings.

Scott Turner

The game had moved into another territory, and with that, Scott leaned into Dutch's side to whisper in her ear. "Unfortunately, the girl drank all of the coolest guy in the universe's beer, and he threw beach water in her lap. And fortunately, he also apologized for it." He gave her a half-smile, before resuming his original seating position. "Need a napkin or a shoulder to cry on? I'm sure this hoodie does both, but I thought it'd be cool to ask. Plus, can't ask me to wash it if your snot's all over it. Hah, check and mate."

Dutch Monroe

Pride stepped all over the kind gesture. Dutch knew that Scott was only trying to cheer her up, she knew he was just trying to be supportive or whatever, but she hated herself for seeming so openly weak and getting so desperately personal. "I don't need a shoulder to cry on. Or a napkin. Or a hoodie." She snapped. "Stop the car!" She yelled, unbuckling her seat belt. "Stop the car, I need to get out." There was so muttering of confusion, but eventually the driver pulled over and she climbed over whoever was sat next to her to get out the car, slamming the door closed as she shouted. "I can fucking walk from here, thanks for the ride or whatever!"

Scott Turner

There was a general uproar, a lot of noises in confusion and a lot of ugly looks pointed at Scott. "What? I didn't do anything!" But he still got out of the car, because maybe, just maybe Scott felt responsible. So Dutch hated kindness. Fine, she'd only get shit from Scott then. "Look, I dunno what kind of drama queen you think you are, but we're not leaving you in the middle of fucking nowhere. The town's five miles from here, and I hear there are snakes in these woods. And other fucking scary shit. But if you wanna walk, be my fucking guest. But let it be known, my friends aren't gonna leave you here. Probably dump you in the trunk." There was no trace of funny ol' Scott. There was just resolution, an unsmiling, unjoking version of someone who was trying to screw back whatever he managed to unscrew within Dutch.

Dutch Monroe

"Fuck off." Dutch responded, turning her back on Scott and beginning to walk away from both him and the car. She really didn't know what she expected to achieve from making such a scene and getting out the car, in honesty she couldn't have really thought they'd just leave her here to walk on her own. She had just needed air, she'd needed to get away from the feeling of everyone looking at her, at least out on the side of the road, walking away from them, she could see them staring at her. "If you're so fucking scared, get back in the car. I'm fine. I don't need your help, I don't need your friends." She didn't mean that, not really - not deep down. She liked them, they'd grown on her; like fungi. But she'd got so used to pushing everyone away lately, that she couldn't help but do the same, even when she might not have wanted to.

Scott Turner

For a second, just for a moment, Scott felt like he was twelve again, all alone with a mother who had locked herself in her room, with her sleeping pills and her alcohol. The distinct knocking on her door, the crying and the pleading. This was what happened when people fell in love; they hurt. And hurt and hurt, like a domino chain. And there was so much that Scott wanted to hurl at Dutch. Along the lines of growing up and whatnot. "I'm not scared." There it was, a prepubescent Scott Turner in the body of a grown man. What was he going to say anyway? "Just get in the fucking car, Dutch. You can go ditch us once we get to campus."

Dutch Monroe

Dutch didn't want to ditch them, she just wanted him to shut up. All she could hear was his voice and it was infuriating as hell. He got right under her skin and she wasn't even sure why. "Shut up!" She screeched, as she spun back round, eye fixed on Scott. "Just shut up. Shut up. Shut up!!!" She yelled, stomping back towards him and finishing her outburst by shoving him, just for good measure - but mostly out of frustration.

Scott Turner

Maybe she didn't need the rough treatment. Maybe Dutch needed a good old fashioned brawl. So when she shoved him, Scott flicked her ear, sticking his tongue out for good measure. Was it the wrong move? Probably. But in that moment, the boy had calculated all his risks.

Dutch Monroe

Dutch stared at him for a moment, like a dog who'd just had its nose flicked. Stunned into silence, eyes wide in surprise, which slowly fell into rage. Before she could stop herself, before she could even think about what she was doing or who she was doing it to, her fist swung back and then released, connecting solidly with his nose.

Scott Turner

"Ahh fuck!" The punch hit Scott like a freight train, and before he could react, he felt the pain bloom. Fuck, that hurt. A lot. He could see, in his periphery, that his friends were taking pictures and he just rolled his eyes. "Dab oll u got?" He challenged her, bloody nose and all. Oh, there was gonna be a fight, alright.

Dutch Monroe

She regretted it immediately. There were hoots and hollers from the car and Dutch felt her fact flush red immediately. "Fuck - I'm .. I didn't..." She could feel hot tears burning down her cheeks and she felt like such an idiot. He was infuriating, most people would have just walked away by now, why did he have to antagonise her. "Do you ever shut up?"

Scott Turner

"Yub hab to bo i dobt." He shrugged, cupping his nose. Now that it was bleeding, Scott could feel the burn. That was why he didn't get into fights, he remembered. If Dutch was a normal person, maybe he would have wrapped an arm around her, told her that it was okay to feel the way she did. But he was scared of getting punched in the kidney or ribs, and his health insurance was practically non-existant. These thoughts made Scott laugh, but it hurt to laugh then. "Lebz go?" He walked back to the car, wiping off whatever he could with the sleeve.

Dutch Monroe

She hesitated for a moment, reluctant to get back in the car after the scene she'd just made - sure everyone would hate her or at least think she was a crazy bitch - but something gave her the impression that neither Scott nor his friends were going to leave her alone to wallow in her own self pity. So she followed after him. Once in the car she rather roughly pushed his head back. "Look up." She demanded, before reaching into her bag. "Before you ask, yes - these are tampons, and yes I am going to shove them up your nose, but they'll stop the bleeding."

Scott Turner

Scott was going to protest, say something wise ass, possibly get roughed up again---but the sensation of something going inside his nose was scary. Like the last time a middle school bully shoved marbles, and left Scott wimpering in pain. But the tampons felt nice. He couldn't quite breathe, but that was okay. He wasn't getting blood on anything else now. He watched as Claire and Baker switched places, and he was kind of grateful for that. There was no way he was leaving Dutch alone, and if she didn't want to talk to him, it was fine. He wondered if she felt any better, though.

Dutch Monroe

They sat in silence for a while, Dutch glancing from the window where she watched the trees go by, to Scott who was doing as he was told and sitting with his head back. "You're an idiot, you know that right?" She told him, more of a statement than a question. What she couldn't wrap her head around was why he'd come after her in the first place, neither had exactly been nice to each other the entire day and after everything you'd think he'd be glad to see the back of her. They weren't friends and he didn't have any obligation to look out for her, yet this almost perfect stranger had taken a punch for no reason other than trying to help her. "But I'm sorry. For your nose."

Scott Turner

Scott only put a thumb up in acknowledgement, with a nod. It was comfortable, his current position. He would have explained that people didn't deserve to be left alone when they were hurting. Or that pain was meant to be shared, like all feelings. Maybe he would have even written her a poem or something. But Scott simply wasn't in the mood. All this had vexed him, taken him back to those awful memories he had worked very hard at repressing. He turned to face her, his smile turning more like a grimace. "Ib okay."

Dutch Monroe

Dutch gave him a half hearted smile in return, one that never actually reached her eyes, and then turned to look back out the window. She spent the remained of the journey sitting in silence, watching the world outside the window zoom past, and when they finally got back to campus she was the first one out the car when the engine shut off. Half of her hoped she'd never see any of them ever again, but half of her knew it probably wouldn't be the last she saw of Scott Turner.

#c:dutchmonroe #op:scottturner #v:nosuchthingaslove #th:neverbelievefortunetellers #th:dutchxscott

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d-erica · 5 years ago

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worth living

Life is as beautiful as you can possibly make it out to be.Life is very much taken for granted. But everyones perspective is different. We can deny it as much as we want, but the ugly truth is that at some point almost everyone has sat in their bed in complete darkness and hoped and prayed for a better or just in general a different life. But we didnt magically get that now did we? No. This post is primarily my past perspective on life. I dont know if anyone else has felt or at least thought in this same way, but this is my input. Now I am not going to sit here and write lies saying that my life was consistent of good or of bad. Childhood was really weird and awkward for me. My memory has blocked alot of those earlier days out primarily because I never learned the basics of being in touch with my emotions so yes in elementary i had bestfriends, but what everyone else felt it seemed kind of impossible and foreign to me. I didnt understand the meaning of hugs and of saying the words ‘’ I love you’’. Saying the word ‘’bye’’ always rubbed me off the wrong way because I knew at a young age that when i said that word to my dad before he was stationed overseas in the air force that that potentionally could be the last time that Id be considered ‘’daddys little girl’’. I knew too soon that things couldnt be perfect forever so I already started putting up a wall trying to protect myself from any harm or abandonment. I grew up with the same routine all the way up to high school avoiding certain interactions and any type of physical affection. I came off as nonchalant or as alot of people would refer to me as ‘’emotionless’’. I knew for a fact that I had emotions and some type of heart deep down inside of me somewhere. My comedy made up for the missing aspects of me i guess. At least for awhile. Fast forward to sophmore year of high school. Something in me changed, it was like a switch. Sixteen years of built up anger, disgust, sadness all came and took control over my entire mind,body,and soul. The funny, lively side of me people once loved changed, people saw the drastic change. I knew they knew something was wrong, and alot of people tried their best to uplift me but no matter what they said. I was still me, I was still the only one in my head. I made myself think and feel like I was all in this alone and that i couldnt get pulled out of this rut. I was just so bitter to the world, just so over basically everything. For someone who used to cry twice a year, i started to cry like five times a day everyday of each month in that time frame. These feelings went on for such a long time that I started to hate myself for me being so uncontrollably sad and weak all of the time. My grades in school went down and down. My family life was at the peak of being the worse thing Ive ever had to see. I think i was just overall disgusted with the way I allowed myself to bury myself in my bed and my feelings without seeking or reaching out for help. During the time frame, I lost all ability or energy to go to school, sleep at night causing my extreme insomnia even now to this day, perform my best at my job, be happy in public settings with friends, leave my room to show my face to my family, and mainly stopped eating and drinking appropriately, I lost like fifty pounds just during the time of being so numb and hopeless. My bones became brittle so I could sometimes barely stand without feeling like falling over. This basically just gave people bigger and stronger than me the green light to sexually abuse and psychically abuse me. Everyday it seemed like another thing to break me. Months went by and I just grew tired. Absolutely tired, exhausted, literally depression won over and over again. My mind shifted from feeling utterly lonely to developing to mental nightmares. No matter how much trauma Ive witnessed or been through, my thoughts are what ruined me, No one else did that to me. Only thing that went through my head was how and what was the easiest way i could possibly die, I didnt want this life. Obviously the odds werent in my favor. Obviously I was a lost cause because no matter what loved ones said or did it didnt stick with me throughout my whole day. Therapy didnt help probalby because I sat there stubborn for two hours with blank eyes, they offered prescriptions that seemed like placebo. ‘’ Here take this when you wake up every morning so you can start off with a clear mind.’’ Yall know how hard it is to look in the face of a therapist you had since seventh grade and hold back the words ‘’ Mrs. Witherspoon I dont plan on waking up in the morning, Im really tired you know.’’ I never told her that and couldnt bring myself to say ‘’bye’ because it brought me back to childhood where I knew itd be the last time. I wrote my notes to individual people. I knew what action I was going to take that night to finally put things and myself to rest. I was on the edge of putting myself at peace then like in a split second difference I got a ft call that I didnt answer. Seeing the name of the person made me stop in my tracks though and something told me to check my messages and look at the previous loving paragraphs Ive ever gotten. I just could not continue. I knew the people in my life didnt deserve the heartache and confusion that would be left after my self afflicted passing. I burned the handwritten goodbye notes and went to sleep . I vowed that I wouldnt put myself in that situation ever again. Yes, things in my life didnt magically improve but I did try to look at things in a different manner. Months went past and I wasnt in as a bad place anymore, but I just wasnt fit for some relationships anymore because it was just unfair to give half of me all the time when people did nothing but give me love and sense of patience all the time. I guess there was alot of pressure to be perfect and it sort of started messing with my mind seeing everyone happy and wondering why Im not i guess. People definitely deserve better than what I ever had to offer, I wish nothing but the best for anyone who has stuck with me in the times around a year ago. Fast forward it is the middle of senior year and I am really happy right now. Ive gained alittle weight, I feel beautiful in my own skin, my grades are so muc better. I should get at least three to four cords at graduation from my honor society clubs here this upcoming spring .Isolating myself in a positive way and letting go of bad situations and coping mechanisms was the best decision I have done. Lately Ive been taking one day at a time. This transformation definitely wasnt overnight, it was like a two year process. Even though some things from those times are still hard to think about, im forever grateful for the hardships and obstacles. Life experiences definitely has shaped me into the young woman I am now, I was kind of mature before everything but this definitely pushed me to see clearly and handle things with more thought and overall process of how and when to react. I used to pray that I could have a diiferent life and even though this is not exactly what I meant, It is still really good at the moment. Ive reconnected with some people from the past, and Ive also attracted more people recently who have come my bestfriends, Things do look up eventually. Life is truly what YOU make it.

#selfworth #recovery #mystory

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jimwithonem · 6 years ago

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My Creative Process

Generative art is digital art made with programming code. That's one definition. I like to think of “genart" as a vehicle for artistic expression for those who can’t paint or draw. That’s me. I couldn’t brush or illustrate myself out of a corner, but I can code. Generative art provides me the capability to express myself in a way I never thought possible. So, I welcome the convergence of art and algorithm and the creative freedom it provides.

I use the Java programming language in Processing, an open-source IDE developed specifically for designing visual electronic art. In this post, I describe my process for creating these types of non-illustrative, non-objective compositions including the song lyrics they contain. Call them, I don’t know, symmetrical abstractions maybe.

I derive the aesthetics for my compositions primarily from Suprematism and simple geometric abstraction and strive to express feelings associated with or produced by the deeper meanings of lyrical content. I’m concerned with stripping down the message of each piece into its raw expressive form, as opposed to constructing some sort of metaphorical object.

For the lyrics, I draw from my own encounters with a vast range of musical styles and genres. A sort of synesthesia takes over when I write where certain words or phrases link to works from music's past. Such impressions, if you will, augment my research into topics of interest and anchor my work in the last 70 years of music. Exploring foundational art forms gives me an occasion to find relevant contexts and expressions with a healthy dose of chaos and randomness.

My lyrical writing process adapts components of the universal creative problem-solving process. For me, I’m more concerned with the process of creating art than perhaps the product itself. I don’t consider myself any sort of authority about music or art, but I do think that process is interesting and perhaps offers a different way of thinking about how art is made which, in my case, means framing new lyrics within a visual piece. Waiting around for inspiration, or lightning, to strike is sort of a Ben Franklin approach where one is dependent on bad weather. Process streamlines this out of the equation.

To prepare for writing this post, I’ve eaten a bowl of fruit, drank a glass of water, found a comfortable chair, donned my headphones, and decided to bang it out. I want to listen to my gut, rather than it distracting me for attention. I suspect there may be many interruptions and temptations to quit early, but I’m intent on ignoring those for the moment. Now, there’s nothing to it but to do it.

The Lyrical Process

Articulate

In the articulation phase, I pick a topic to write about. It may be suggested by someone else, is related to something I’m experiencing at the time, or is inferred from some musical work of the past or present. For example, a topic I chose recently was about finding love in an unusual place or circumstance which David Bowie wrote about in his song Heroes. I wouldn’t dare presume to rival Bowie’s work, but topics are free for anyone to explore and play around with.

Inspire

Now it’s time to lower the lights and get into a mood. Each topic suggests certain attitudes and feelings that require I achieve an emotional state. It’s harder to write when I’m not feeling it, so music helps me reach a certain place where I can tap into available inputs and jumpstart creativity. I prefer to feed my creative process rather than starve it of information. Avoiding creative anemia requires a certain amount of intention, perhaps.

This phase is all about commitment. It’s my goal to finish the first draft of a piece in one sitting. Sometimes that’s as little as an hour or even days. The blank page can be a tyrant unless it knows your serious about putting something down. Acceptance helps me gather the energy I know I will need to see the project through from start to finish, or until my laptop battery runs out of juice. (Right now I'm sitting at about an 82% charge, so we’ll see.)

Analyze

Here I hop on Google and research the topic by reading articles, watching videos, and scanning blogs and boards. I’m looking for psychological or philosophical insights and perspectives to fill my cup of knowledge. Oftentimes this stage goes very quickly, but other times the information is just not there in sufficient quality or quantity. In this case, I do a soft pivot and come at the topic from a slightly different angle by changing my question or query.

Ideate

This is where the process gets a little easier. Once the creative waters are heated to a steady boil, words and phrases stand up and take notice and I write them down without analysis or edifice. I try not to actually write the song here, just curate the words I need to fill my palette with color. At the end of the day, I will attempt, in the spirit of Bauhaus minimalism, to use as few keywords as possible in the final work to convey a feeling, situation, meaning, or story. Too many words in the final piece are prohibitive for the reader in my opinion.

Associate

Making associations to prior art and current culture is a cool way to position a piece within its larger context. It also helps to have a bit of synesthesia here. For me, that means words or phrases trigger prior works without any conscious effort. So, I just write these down along with everything else and welcome the possibility of standing on the shoulders of giants. Perhaps art is a sustaining innovation where one just hopes to make incremental improvements to delivering a message, and the language of love takes over from there.

Arpeggiate

I start forming a repeating rhythm in my head here as a way to sort of frame the meter of the lyrics. My goal is to play around with the meter and stretch the boundaries and rules to my liking. For me, that means less is more. Because of many years of private vocal training, I can envision a phrase, run, rest, or diphthong and how it might be interpreted by a singer - sort of like visualizing vocal sounds as shapes - which allows me a bit of latitude in development. Typically, I won’t jump on an electronic or app arpeggiator here, just use the percussionist in my head.

Overflow

Sort of like making a prototype, or a blacksmith shaping a blank of molten metal, a work takes its form from repeated blows of the hammer. If the art is allowed to cool down it must be reinserted into the fire for another iteration with the master implement. I like to sustain momentum here and strike while the iron is hot. Cooling down too soon may result in ideas sitting just out of reach with no ladder to retrieve them.

Rewrite

There’s no getting around for it. Writing is about effort, yo. One must write and rewrite, then rewrite again, until a piece reaches a certain momentum or economy of scale. If necessary, I put the work down and come back to it later if I feel it's not ready or I’m exhausted. At this stage, I want to evaluate what I have and whether its something I want to proceed with.

Assuming I now have a lyric I’m more or less happy with, and this is a judgment call more than anything else, I move on in the process. Since I’m creating for me, I try not to impose any sort of perfection or expectation. I’m looking to startle myself or discover an effect. I don’t think this is a goal per se, more of a perception of what “done” means. Of course, art is never really done, right, so it’s just a matter of putting it out there with warts and all. Perhaps there is some sort of beauty in imperfection and uncertainty that gives room for love to cover the gap in unexpected ways. This means not shying away from essentially darker tones or topics and really acknowledging those emotions without discrimination.

The Genart Process

Through the experience of learning Processing, I have created a sketch applet to lever as a framework for constructing pieces of art. The sketch has undergone many redesigns, refactorings, and iterations which permits me to focus on configuration over convention. While the app is not gold plated or even perfectly constructed, it does use principles to encapsulate complexity and accelerate runtime.

Import

After converting a lyric into CSV format, I configure the app to import it into the sketch at runtime. The idea here is that the elements of each lyrical piece are analyzed and combined with a level of randomness to algorithmically achieve a unique output. I find that using the code in this way liberates my mind from intentionality and objectivity and suggests interesting or unusual geometrical representations of the work.

Configure

A few choices have to be made about the font, color, and level of randomness, and dimensions of geometry. This is an iterative process, but typically a lyric will imply a color palette based on its mood or message. I try to find a starting place that provides an appropriate level of detachment that doesn’t overwhelm the final piece. Just enough is good enough, in my opinion, but too simple is boring. I prefer the artwork conjure a picture in the viewer's mind however abstract.

Experiment

A composition begins to form at this stage which leads me to code and recode the geometrical equations in relation to their placement on canvas. I like to experiment with color, movement, and perspective to shape the art into submission. What starts out as a divergent step may morph or molt the work until I start to see something I like. Then, I converge on that and continue to work it out.

Iterate

Finally, I iterate and evaluate until I’m more or less satisfied with the results. Small tweaks are often better than larger ones because it keeps the work true to its disorganized qualities. Too much intervention or intention can lead to overkill which can cause a setback. A certain level of acceptance of what is good enough is balanced with what I want to see emerging from the piece. However, it’s interesting to note that the two products, the lyrics and the artwork, synthesize into a new whole where each is evaluated and improved in relation to the other until a completed work results.

It’s fun and rewarding to make something that I or someone else may think is beautiful or inspiring. I want to thank you for reading and invite you to hit me up anytime with questions or comments. I wish you the best with your own artistic journeys.

Jim

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pattersonvoice-blog · 8 years ago

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City Council Meeting - 2.8.17

As noted in my first post my goal here is to ask the question. Last night I kept thinking of questions over and over in my head but with some I just never got up the nerve to ask, and with others I didn’t think of until public comment period was over. Here are my overall reactions to the meeting along with what questions or concerns I had: 1. Call to Order.

2. Pledge.

3. Statements of Conflict.

4. Items from the Public:

This was a good section in that many members of the public were present and spoke. This is a sharp contrast to many occasions where there is very little public comment. One of the best items I heard from was the Pop Program that is going to be taking place at the Hammon Senior Center. The idea is a simple program for Dads to share their experiences and guidance. I think it is a wonderful idea and I know how hard it can be from personal experience to be a new father looking for help.

Another item here that I loved was our local Librarian going over many of the programs for kids that our library offers as well as pointing out where the funding for such programs comes from - especially in a climate where certain political groups who have control of government at this time want to consistently defraud science and pull funding for arts and public social works. It is a reminder that what happens on a large scale can still affect us locally.

5. Consent Calendar:

Okay, I am going to admit here that I don’t really understand what this item is. Waive readings of what? All city ordinances? It looks like this is saying that procedurally they are waived the need to read all ordinances and resolutions. Is that really a thing and if so, if this is always waived, then why does it exist at all?

6. Presentation/Action Items:

At this time there was public discussion about who should be selected for the vacant city council. They selected the top 4 people to discuss from the applicants.

When it came time to public comment, the only real excitement there was from Mr. Troy McComak, a former mayoral candidate. Troy seemed a bit irate over multiple facts including that he had received 1/3rd of the vote in the last election and felt that it should have entitled him to the council seat. On top of that he was not happy with the selection process and wanted a special election held.

I don’t know Troy over than seeing him at a couple meetings and what I read on his public record, but he seems to feel he was shafted in some way in this process. I am not sure I agree with his take on this - I do think that maybe a special election would have been more democratic, but it also would have been highly costly with little turn out. If we are honest and pragmatic about the situation, the selection process was probably the simplest path to take.

The only other interesting exchange in this was when Councilman Farinha made comment about one of the applicants, Mr. Larry Buehner, who did not take part in the interview. The councilman seemed to imply that the applicant was not properly informed of the interview, as if on purpose, but then what made it more interested was when Mayor Novelli then attempted to silence Councilman Farinha on this topic stating that it was not the time to bring this forward to which Farinha replied with the fact that he had a right to speak at that time. While I am not one to buy into conspiracy theories and remain a militant skeptic, I did find it odd that the Mayor didn’t seem to want to hear or have heard the Councilman’s comments on this matter.

Now, I don’t know Mr. Buehner but I know what I have read and heard from others about the the man and I if what is written is true, which I believe at least some of it is, then I have no issue with not wanting him on the council. Be that as it may, if someone like Mayor Novelli or any of the council or staff is actively working to keep him off the council in the dark, then that is a concern for the city and the public and does little to inspire trust in our city leaders.

Finally, after comment and discussion, the council chose Mr. Alfred Parham to take the oath and join the council. I don’t know Al well, but I had recently met him at a political action committee meeting group and found him to be charming and wise, so hopefully we will be able to continue working with him and he will prove to be a voice for reason on the city council.

7. Presentation.

8. Public Hearings: 8.1

Okay, so here is where it gets interesting the questions start flowing in my head. The first read and discussion started over a city ordinance (City Ordinance No. 797) pertaining to shopping cart abandonment. The idea here is to inform shops when people report abandoned shopping carts around the city, giving them 24-hours to have them picked up, or else face a penalty unless the shop has either theft deterrent carts (electronic wheel locks) or a contract for cart retrieval from a 3rd party service. The ordinance draft was written by the city attorney as well as the sheriff’s representative to try to solve the problem of abandoned shopping carts left around town.

My first question as someone that lives and drives around town a lot is to ask if this is even a problem? Now, while I do travel a lot in town, I do not spend much time on the south side of town, which I am told from multiple sources in and after the meeting that yes, this is a problem in those areas. Another small concern as someone that does not see this as an issue is simply that one member of the public made comment on it being an eyesore across from his property, which always makes me skeptical as to who drafted the ordinance and for whom’s benefit. Is this an ordinance that is only a concern and crafted by wealthy property owners around town?

Once discussion opened on this topic Councilman McCord brought up the concern about the ordinance and what it was intended to do. One part of the ordinance defines an “abandoned cart” as any cart that is removed from the business premises without prior authorization and then continues to prohibit the removal or possession of an abandoned cart and will give them a citation. This is clearly beyond the scope of what the ordinance is intended to do. If the ordinance, as noted by the Sheriff’s office who helped draft this, is to hold businesses accountable for not retrieving carts and creating a safety hazard, then why are those people with carts being cited? The way this is written faults those that are good samaritans and want to help return carts that have been dumped with a citation. Now, I understand that this is not who they say they are targeting and I am aware that people should not be stealing carts, but this entire definition of “abandoned cart” and the point that those in possession will be cited is overstepping the bounds of what this ordinance does and is intended to do, if that stated intention is honest. I do appreciate Councilman McCord bringing up this point and pushing for it, but there is another issue at play here.

The main issue that I have is that during the discussions which ranged from the wording topic above to issues with who gets cited and how to prove contracts, it comes out that the people writing the ordinance, the sheriff and attorney, never talked to or partnered with the major stores in town to go over this ordinance. They never even reach out to them on them while drafting this. That would never fly in the type of engineering that I do. So many of the questions and concerns raised could already be solved by a local store, they could have some ideas about best practices for their property, or they could have important input as they are the ones that are claimed to be targeted by this ordinance. If you don’t reach out and partner with those affected you could be wasting time, money, and reinventing the wheel on something that may not even be the correct course of action. To me it shows a great failure on such a small issue - something that would have taken very little time or effort on the drafter’s part. If this is how the council and staff treat a simple ordinance, it does make me question a lot. It makes me assume that people want power to implement rules, but don’t want to actually talk to the public and work to implement the will of the people and businesses they claim to represent and lead.

This is the exact question that I should have asked last night. I know it would have ruffled some feathers, but in the end, isn’t that what we are supposed to be doing? Many people are too scared to ask such questions and even I, a person with a lot of stage and speaking experience, still get anxious a bit as well, but it needs to be done. We need to push back.

8. Public Hearings: 8.2

The next items for discussion was a request from City Finance to place a lien on a property based on City Ordinances Nos. 174 and 243, and then opened the floor to public comment. While this is all fine and dandy, there was little information given and as a member of the public I was unaware what these ordinances were for or what/where this lien was for. It makes me question what the point of this public comment period was for. To the defense of the city though, I learned there is a more complete packet available online that they do not print out. This complete packet has more information then the summary packet that they do provide. This is something that I will be paying more attention to in the future.

9. Public Comment/Action Item.

Complete packet: http://pattersonca.iqm2.com/Citizens/FileOpen.aspx?Type=1&ID=1099&Inline=True

In the end - we all need, myself included, to remain vigilant and keep ourselves and our community informed. As noted above, I don’t know if many people know of the complete packet as opposed to the summary agenda. I should make it a point to outreach this information to people beforehand to each meeting along with my own summary notes to be better prepared to ask the necessary and important questions that often times no one from the public or from the council seem willing or able to ask.

This is the first entry into my local Patterson City Council diary.

#patterson city council #patterson ca #california #local politics #mayor novelli #councilman farinha #councilman mccord #councilman parham #councilman naranjo #city ordinance 797 #shopping carts #troy mccomak #larry buehner

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usefulstuffmouzon · 8 years ago

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MailChimp Subscription Forms

I create new subscription forms infrequently… long enough apart that I forget the procedure from one time to the next. Here’s how I do it:

Log in to MailChimp, then click Lists. Select the list for which you want to create the subscription form. In the top menu, click “Signup forms” (that’s their term for subscription forms). Select “Embedded forms,” which takes you to the form creation window.

If the signup form is the only thing on the page, like on this page, I don’t check “include form title,” letting the page title serve as the form title. But when the signup form is embedded later in a page, like on a blog post, I’ll use the form title.

I always select “Show only required fields,” which for me is email address, first name, and last name. The more information you ask for, the less likely they are to sign up. I click “Show interest group fields,” but we’ll do something special with them in a minute. I click “Show required field indicators” so that people understand they need to give me all three pieces of info. I don’t click “Show format options” because that’s more clutter for the subscribers to think about. I don’t click any of the “Enhance your form” options, but I do click “Enable reCAPTCHA” because it adds a Google reCAPTCHA checkbox that says "I'm not a robot" to your signup form, preventing spam bots from adding email addresses to your lists. Next, I click into the “Copy/paste onto your site” field which automatically selects all of the code. Copy.

Or not. If you’ve already created a signup form for that particular list, you can just reuse the form by copying the Raw HTML object that is the current signup form and pasting it on the page where you want the new form, then adjust a little of the HTML. The old form I was using was the one where you can sign up for Walk Appeal book updates. I’ve copied and pasted it onto a blog post where I’ll be collecting subscriptions to Outdoor Room Design book updates. Here are the changes I’m making:

First, here’s something I always do. Near the top, there’s this bit of code: <style type="text/css">  #mc_embed_signup{background:#fff; clear:left; font:14px Helvetica,Arial,sans-serif; }  /* Add your own MailChimp form style overrides in your site stylesheet or in this style block.  We recommend moving this block and the preceding CSS link to the HEAD of your HTML file. */ </style> I don’t want any special MailChimp formatting… I want the text of the form to flow with the text of the page. So I delete this entire segment of code. With the recycled code I’m working with today, that segment has long been deleted. That’s another reason it’s good to recycle signup forms… it keeps all your customizations.

Next, I decide whether to include a form title. Because this form will be at the end of a blog post, I’m including it as noted above. That line of code is:  <h2>Subscribe to get Outdoor Room Design book updates</h2> This tag occurs right after the form action tag.

There’s a <div class=“mc-field-group"> tag for each of the three required fields. One little refinement: in my MailChimp lists, I use all lowercase for the field names (email address, first name, and last name) but I want them to appear in title case on the signup form (Email Address, First Name, and Last Name) so I change it once, and then it’s automatically the way I want it on all recycled signup forms.

MailChimp has a nifty feature known as Groups. A Group is a group of people on your list who match certain characteristics. I use three Group Sets (collection of Groups) in the Mouzon Design list:

I’m a(n)… This group let people tell me what they do. Academic, Appraiser, Architect, Attorney, Banker, etc. I have 25 Groups in this Set that focus on disciplines or interests involved in placemaking and architecture. “But wait,” you ask. “How can they tell you what they do if only the required fields show up on the signup form?” Good question. Roughly once per year, I send out my Eye Candy Swap email. It’s a curated collection of my best recent Mouzon Images work, and I ask them something like “hey, while you’re enjoying these, why don’t you tell me a little more about you? The more I know, the more I can tailor mailings so that I only send you stuff you’re interested in.” This includes a link to a page where the entire signup form is visible, including not only Group Sets, but also all of the other basic info like street address, etc. But I will NEVER ask for telephone numbers again because I hate unsolicited calls.

I’ve bought… I only use this group for the Mouzon Design list. For the Guild Foundation list, the New Urban Guild list, and the Studio Sky list, this Group Set is omitted because those entities sell mostly services instead of products. I’m interested in… For Mouzon Design, this Set includes the Catalog of the Most-Loved Places, Mouzon Design house plans and plan books, Mouzon Images, New Media for Designers + Builders, the Original Green, the Outdoor Room Design book, and the Walk Appeal Book.

At the beginning of each Group Set input checkboxes, there is this tag: <div class="mc-field-group input-group”> I add a style attribute at the end of each of the three Group Sets to say this: <div class="mc-field-group input-group" style=“display:none”>. What that does is to tell the signup form not to display this section.

Each Group has an input tag, with the attributes type, value, and name, and ID. This signup form has the following added to the end of the id attribute: “ checked” where the quotation marks are not in the code; I’ve simply used them to show that there’s a space before the word. So for this form, I want to cut the “ checked” from the Walk Appeal input tag and add it in the same place to the end of the Outdoor Room Design tag. What this means is that when someone subscribes, it will subscribe them to that Group without them ever having to see the Group Set. Cool, eh?

Three more things: Near the end of the signup form code, there’s a scary-looking line that says: </div> <!-- real people should not fill this in and expect good things - do not remove this or risk form bot signups—> Problem is, the three things I need to do are below that. I experimented, and what I do doesn’t seem to break anything. Here they are:

There’s an <input type=“submit" tag, which defines the Subscribe button. If you want that button to say Subscribe, you’re fine. But if you want it to say something else like Enroll, Get Updates, or whatever, change the value attribute to whatever you need it to say.

For some reason I can’t figure out, the Subscribe button gets cut off at the bottom when I use the default signup form. So I add a <br/> tag between the </form> tag and the </div> tag. I suspect it’s a problem with my web app (Sandvox) and MailChimp, but since the fix is so easy, I haven’t worried about finding the root cause.

Sometimes, I’ll add the following text just below the <br/> tag: You'll receive an email from me with the subject line "Mouzon Design: Please Confirm Subscription." Click Yes to confirm your subscription for Outdoor Room Design book updates. This is helpful because several signup forms are on the Original Green site rather than the Mouzon Design site. I can’t get MailChimp to customize the subject line based on Group, so this seems like a decent workaround.

Does this all make sense, or did I explain anything in a fuzzy way?

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operationrainfall · 4 years ago

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Title Fujii Developer Funktronic Labs Publisher Funktronic Labs Release Date June 27th, 2019 Genre Meditative, gardening simulator, VR, adventure Platform PlayStation VR, Steam, Oculus Age Rating Everyone Official Website

Since college, I’ve been a fan of minimalism. It started when reading minimalist American fiction from the turn of the 20th century, and extended into video games with titles such as Shadow of the Colossus and Journey (which, incidentally, are two of my favorite games ever.) There’s a beauty in simplicity, a kind of tranquility when you’re given something concise and pared-down to only its most relevant forms. Fujii goes a long way toward capturing that same serenity through virtual reality, even if, in the end, it didn’t quite hit the mark for me.

You wake up in the dark and make your way toward colored lights in the distance. Touching them causes them to light up and open a path for you. Since I was playing on the PlayStation VR version, your in-game hands move in tandem with the Move controllers, and for the most part it was pretty responsive. It got a bit finicky if you walked too close to the flower or orb of light or whatever other object you wanted to touch (and you can interact with almost everything). Walking was a simple matter of pointing your Move controller in a direction and pressing the center button to sort of hop to your next spot. Using the triggers lets you grip objects. I spent probably more time than was necessary picking up the weirdly cute creatures in the world of Fujii and petting them. It’s that kind of game.

You can absolutely pet the wildlife and it is glorious.

Fujii has four distinct locations. There’s your hub world nestled inside a tree where you can plant the various exotic seeds you find by traversing three independent and unique biomes. The first two biomes are labyrinthine exploratory areas where interacting with the environment opens up new pathways. The third biome is similar to the opening sequence, in that it’s a dark pathway you have to light up. It was a chill time just exploring the areas, finding hidden nooks and crannies, and petting the aforementioned wildlife. (Seriously, every game needs to let you pet the animals.) The only real goal is to collect enough seeds to take back to your hub area. I spent about 30-45 minutes in each of the first two biomes, and I can’t say for certain if the amount of seeds I needed was all the ones in the location or an arbitrary amount. Fujii is very light on direction. Other than some very basic controls that are etched into the landscape, the game doesn’t tell you how to do anything. It doesn’t give an objective other than find seeds. It goes beyond minimalism and into more experimentation territory. I feel like it would have been a smoother and more overall positive experience if the control schemes had been laid out cleanly and simply right from the get-go (Fujii does this when teaching you how to move). The first half hour or so of my playtime was me fumbling about with the controls and trying to figure out what I was doing. It took away from the otherwise low-key vibe the game gives off.

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Controls aside, Fujii is impressively lovely. The locales are vibrant and distinct, popping with color and texture. Interacting with the animals and plants are what give life — literally — to the world. Gripping or touching the flora and fauna, or sucking up water with your hands and spraying it on the environment, are the main mechanical gimmicks of the game. You collect items by grabbing them and storing them in a little flower pocket inventory. The most fun I had was trying to find ways to get to some far-off item I could see high up on a giant plant or hiding behind a rock barrier. You can pick up an assortment of wild looking seeds, as well as various creature eggs to populate your hub. There are also glowing spheres that unlock doors, which help you reach other seeds.

The first two biomes feature their own version of a Simon Says music puzzle, and honestly I wish there were more of them. Fujii bills itself as a sort of musical adventure, but those puzzles are the only real meaningful interaction you have with the game’s music. Otherwise it’s tonal responses when you go near something. The game itself has really good music that absolutely sets a relaxed tone, I just wanted more of the interactive elements those Simon Says puzzles offered.

You can store the seeds, eggs, and orbs you collect through each biome in your inventory.

My biggest issue with Fujii is that it’s aimless. I spent about four hours with the game. The stated goal is to collect seeds. You bring them back to your hub and plant them, then just tend to them. I think. The game doesn’t offer any input. Collecting for collecting’s sake isn’t necessarily a bad thing (I enjoy Nintendo games, and those are chock full of them), but usually that collecting adds something to the world. You can learn about its inhabitants, wildlife, history. I still don’t really know the world of Fujii. The gardening aspect is also where the controls suffered the most for me, because the space around the planters is small and I’d often end up on top of them or too close to effectively interact with them. For me, it became minimalism without a purpose. It lacked the narrative cohesion that gave Journey‘s or even Flower‘s minimalism a sense of weight, and the collecting felt more arbitrary than the structured freedom of a relaxing game like Animal Crossing. It leaned more abstract in the way Flow did, focusing instead on mood and emotion. As an experience, it isn’t egregious (in fact, I laud it for being experimental), but as a game, it left me feeling unfulfilled.

I also can’t overlook the fact the game crashed on me during my first playthrough of the first biome, or that items would sometimes just disappear into the ether if I dropped them. Having both happen early in my playthrough admittedly colored the rest of my time with the game.

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Fujii was an interesting experience that ended up feeling like a half-finished game with underdeveloped mechanical ideas but a solid ethos. The game wants you to chill and relax, and to its credit it’s incredibly effective. There are very few games that can thrust me into the dark with glowing eyes in the distance and yet make me feel completely at ease. The visuals and music are great, but the gardening aspect just didn’t click with me. I’m glad it exists, though. Games are such a fantastic way to provide unique experiences of every stripe, and even if that experience didn’t fit for me, I’m sure it fits for someone else, and I will never turn away from experimentation within the medium.

Fujii is available on Steam VR, Oculus Quest, and PlayStation VR for $14.99.

[easyreview cat1title=”Overall” cat1detail=”” cat1rating=”3″]

youtube

Review copy provided by the publisher.

REVIEW: Fujii for PlayStation VR Title Fujii

#Fujii #Funktronic Labs #PS VR #Review #virtual reality

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imogenancliffelister · 5 years ago

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Inspired by art evaluation

1. I had studied both artist and photographers when it came to this, the ones I found most inspiration were Kathy ager, Scott Fraser, Hendrik kerstens and Joanna Skrzypczak. Kathy ager was favourited by me as her work inspired me with her contrast to both modern and old art, making older things come to life with the new modern styled age. It was different to me then all the rest were, which stood out to me the most. Kathy ager and Scott Fraser were from studying myself and from being in class were Hendrik kerstens and Joanna skrzypczak were in class. I learned a lot from the work as even though it was mainly artwork, I still had a sense of creativity within me because of the paintings.

2. Through looking at their work and mine, I had really taking inspiration, from what I could use to recreate, like what things did I have in my house for me to connect to this piece, what other pieces could I change up to give it my own twist, show it has a piece of me rather the painting itself. Like with the skull in the box, I had used my tarot card instead a deck of cards. Or with the book stack I had changed the fruits and used witchy/philosophical books to represent me more.

3. I experimented with the use fo gels in studio, plus the use fo different studio lights, I liked using the soft boxes especially in class as I liked how the light was more natural and appealing to look at. However the gel use was my favourite, I loved working with the colours and how I could changed the mood of my photo through colours.

4. I had decided to try and put a little piece of me into my work to show that is still mine but I am still recreating something that has already been made. Like for example with the blue turban I had used a ski mask that you cover the lower part of your face and neck to keep warm, this was able to be used to keep her hair back almost like it was a turban.

5. What changed I believe was the usage of different lights, soft box for me I preferred but at times I would have to change it up, so I would end using the spot or model light which I'm not too keen on.

6. Again I feel as if Creating, imagining and innovating is a strong point for me within this exercise as I feel like it went well with each piece I had done. I also think another habit of mind example would have been thinking and communicating with clarity and precision as comminuted well with my peers and made sure they were okay, understood what I was asking of them and if there were anything other ides they were free to input into the photoshoot.

7. I believe the final outcome of my photos I was very pleased with, they had turned out exactly the way I wanted and I loved how creative I came with it. I enjoyed to the process and the editing and it has inspired me to do more pieces just like it.

8. All the photos I had done had been the way I wanted them to be, so I am very pleased of what I created.

9. I think with each of the photo I was successful in showing what I was meant to create and with my final piece even allow the viewer to view the photo in their own way.

10. For my last shoot I would have maybe liked to add someone else in, maybe did more angles or had different colours, did a full body shot instead of just the head.

12. Its all personal cause each piece has a piece in me with it, to the books, tarot cards, ski masks and my ideas and vision of what came to life.

13. I want them to look at my piece and come up with something themselves, to reflect on how they feel on what they are looking at, thinking about their emotions and thoughts onto the picture.

#inspiredbyart #studio

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bramanwfericzs25insurance-blog · 5 years ago

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jackmonkeygames · 6 years ago

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Norkek and Hedda takes on Toxic Masculenity

Norkek and Hedda are two Aliens who make fun at toxic masculinity by Turing it inside out.

Norkek and Hedda

Being a guy is not easy.

The goal post has moved as we spend way too much time trying to define what it means to be a man. As a guy who grew up on the wrong end of the toxic masculinity, it’s taken me a long time to be comfortable with who I really am. Yep, that is right I am a guy who is happy not conforming to gender roles. Blue jeans, beard and a love of Japanese weaponry. I also own more makeup (FX for body painting). I am also the worst you will ever see with a power drill. I love musicals and cry during films.

I am saying this to preface that Norkek and Hedda are here to point out everything that is wrong with Toxic Masculinity without saying it’s wrong to be a guy.

Finding a topic? Just ask the women

I never have a hard time finding a topic. Most of the Facebook groups I am part of has someone complaining about some guy who seems to think he is entitled. Or that someone is lesser because they do not fit the ideal man stereotype.

Research is about listening

Let’s face it. I can only speak to the toxicity that I have directly felt in my life. But that is only one side of the dice (to think there is only too sides is foolishness). I also did not want to write this with the attitude of “It never happened to me so it must not happen” or “Not all men”.

The episode for “why men are so bad at dating apps” took me three weeks in forums listening to the horror stories women tell over and over about the men who message them. I’m not talking about the weird stuff or incompatibilities. I am talking about stores about the average guy. I learned a lot just by looking at the screenshots that seem to never end. Every woman had their own experiences. I took careful notes of these experiences. I think the most shocking factor was the absolute mass of stories.

Turning the topics inside out!

Norkek and Hedda are all about getting the topic wrong in all the right ways. I try to look at the situation and think “How could these aliens misunderstand what is going on here?”. I also want Norkek and Hedda to actually teach something. I guess that is why I’m using humor. Walking up to a guy and saying ummm your being a total dick when you cat call a woman is not effective as they will instantly go into attack mode (Did I mention men who do this suffer from Toxic Masculenity )

Why men suck at dating apps! Comedy

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Gamemaster Homework : Built-in plot hooks

In Star-Fall there is faster than light travel however communication is limited by much slower speeds. The idea is not one based on hard science but a plot device. In this post am going to show you how to add built-in plot hooks into your Roleplaying game. At the bottom…

January 20, 2019

The post Taking on Toxic Masculinity with humour: Norkek and Hedda appeared first on Star-Fall RPG podcast.

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lovenerdywinnerbouquetfan-blog · 6 years ago

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Brookhaven Mississippi Cheap car insurance quotes zip 39603

"Brookhaven Mississippi Cheap car insurance quotes zip 39603

Brookhaven Mississippi Cheap car insurance quotes zip 39603

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