#why would i buy that. give me marina backstory

[synthaphone]

ghost trick is all i care about

[lovecraftian-druid]

Pactborn - Part II

NOTE #1: This is a chapter-long post of a character’s backstory, so hit your Keurig for a warm cuppa and curl up under a blanket, cuz this isn’t a quick scroll sort of post.

NOTE #2: I’m changing this submission up from the second person tense of the previous post (the one I used when talking to my PC during her zero level session) to the first person tense, just to shake things up and try on different styles. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as we enjoyed experiencing it!

I wake up to the warmth of the morning sun on my face and the smell of bread baking downstairs: normally, this would feel like any other morning here in Khaadeehava, but this morning feels different. Maybe it’s because today the annual celebration of Al’adwa, the festival of Solune where everyone eats street food, plays games, and watches the solar eclipse; or maybe it’s because of the amazing dream I had again of the nice man with the shield who takes me flying over the city and the ocean (sometimes, I like to pretend that the big ships I see in my dreams are Papa’s); or maybe it was the weird feeling in my stomach when I woke up: I thought – no, felt – like someone was watching me…

Regardless, I throw my legs over the side of the bed, glancing over at my outfit for later, as Mama calls up to me, “Kal’ya, darling, a letter is just in – I think you know who sent it!” With my gangly form, I sprint like a whirlwind down the stairs to see Mama fixing breakfast in the kitchen and a letter waiting for me on the supper table – on it is the seal I’ve come to recognize and love: the insignia of the Felgran Fleet, the royal navy of the next region over from Ghaan. Papa joined the navy when I was five years old, and his work has kept him away at sea for sometimes months at a time for the last three years. It’s so exciting to read his notes when he can write though! He tells me stories of all sorts of different people, different types of weather, and strange sea creatures he’s had to encounter. I carefully tear along the side of the envelope to pull out his message to me – it reads:

                                              ~ Wayfarer’s Tavern ~

Savita 22nd, 410

My little cinnamon stick,

I hope this letter finds you well - my journey has taken me around the coast again into the frigid waters of the Gheaţă Ocean to a region known as Chladny (have you read about this place in your studies?). It never ceases to amaze me how we are only a mere 30 days apart and yet, where hot sand lies beneath your feet at home, frozen snow lies beneath mine as I stand here on the Zamuerzat Wharf. How I wish I could bring you with me! Perhaps when you are 10, then we will sail around the entire continent of Baenomir. Until then, I hope you will enjoy this trinket (called a “compass”) I picked up in one of the shops in the port - it is Dwarven made and is said to be able to tell you which direction you travel. May it direct your paths until mine direct me home to you. I know I have been gone longer than usual, but I may be home within the next month.

Give your mother my love and save the best of it for yourself,

Papa

I miss Papa so much! And I want to go sailing so badly! Sometimes, when Mama sends me on errands, I’ll go to the docks down in the Lahira Marina just to watch the ships go in and out of the port. I’d give anything to sail a great big ship like one of those.

Before my mind can wander far, I remember the part in the letter where Papa mentioned a trinket – my eyes scan the table for a package and quickly find it and unwrap it: it’s a…metal box? I study it more closely. Dad has told me before about dwarves – that they’re a little shorter than most humans but are very, very smart and can make the most incredible things out of metal! As I turn the “compass” over in my hands, I see that the bronze casing holds some notches and a couple dials behind a thick piece of glass. I spin around the room and watch the needles whirl around, and it makes me giggle. Rubbing my thumbs over the front of the compass, I feel the cold, shaped metal shaped into the four points on the device – they are of four faces, and all have tiny little red gems fitted into their eyes, ears, and foreheads. A couple of the faces look a little creepy, but one looks like a tiger and another looks like a grumpy version of Sultan Hunab! The top face, nearest the “N,” has a large hat like the sultan wears, and it’s around this hat that the cord of the compass is wrapped and tied.

Excited to show Mama, I run into the kitchen with my letter and trinket. “Look, Mama! Look what Papa sent!” I slap both down onto the table, eager for her to read the letter and to marvel at my new treasure. “Papa says he got this for me and that it shows me where I’m going! Look!” I shove the compass closer towards her face, obscuring her vision for a moment as her head jerks backwards in surprise.

“Hold on, Ka’lya, hold on, let me read your letter first!” she says as she chuckles warmly with shared enthusiasm. She finishes reading the letter then extends her hand to examine my gift before laying eyes on the grimacing faces, letting out a short gasp, and nearly throwing the compass as she recoils from it. I scramble clumsily to catch it before it hits the ground, barely getting a grip on it before it clambers to the floor. I know the look I give her is one of confusion and frustration, and she quickly tries to regain control of herself. “I’m sorry, I—I don’t know what came over me…” she says as she wipes her hands on her apron and goes back to scrubbing out a bread pan.

Mama is usually a pretty tough lady: she does everything for Jida, Jido, and me. She might not be an adventurer like some of the people in the stories Papa tells me, but she still is kind of like a hero – she cooks and cleans and makes things for Jida and Jido’s stall down in the bazaar sometimes. Mama told me once that she even saw a dragon, but she doesn’t like to talk about it; she said it makes her sad when she thinks about it. Maybe this reminded her of something that made her sad once…

I don’t bring up the compass again as I quickly gulp down the delicious breakfast Mama made and, after putting my plate in the sink, I run upstairs to get ready for the day. Mama saved up some extra silver to buy me a new outfit for the Al’adwa celebration tonight – a new pair of pants with a nice tangerine and turquoise shirt. When Papa comes home, he brings home lots of coin to help support us while he’s gone; but the longer he’s gone, the more we have to do what Mama calls “cut corners.” She says that sometimes you have to do difficult things to get by. But for tonight, she must have put that aside, because as I look in the mirror, holding the sleeveless, silky-soft shirt up to my torso, I feel like it is much too nice for me to ever wear out of the house.

Carefully pulling the shirt over my head as though it could tear at any moment, I smooth it down over my long waist then begin to brush my long, tangled black hair. I look up for a moment to comb out a knot, and I meet my own glance in the reflection – I’m not much for prettying myself up, so looking in the mirror is a rare occurrence and seeing my two different color eyes always catches me off guard. My right eye is a dark brown just like Mama and Papa’s; but my left eye is a pale blue. Jida says that that is where an angel must have kissed me before I was born. Mama tells me that it’s unique and something to be proud of, but the other kids in town usually just make fun of me over it.

I must have been upstairs for a while now, because I’m surprised when Mama yells up to me that it’s time to head into the market district for the festivities. Before leaving my room, I brush a long section of hair down over my left eye. Joining Mama on the veranda, we walk hand in hand to the bazaar. “Your cousins Ravi and Baru will probably be here, you know – you’ll have to try to find them so that you can play together,” Mama encourages me, “just be sure to meet me back and Jida and Jido’s stall before the eclipse makes it get too dark, alright?”

“Don’t worry,” I assure her. Even though the nice man that visits me in my dreams tells me that my blue eye is a gift, I still don’t know if I like it. I wish sometimes that I were just a normal kid, nothing special. Then maybe I would fit in better.

We meander slowly down the dusty downward slopes of the residential district to the Central Bazaar, and Mama coaxes me to run off while she visits with her friends. I wander aimlessly through the sandy streets for a while, picking up a few dropped pieces of copper and finding myself a food vendor where I buy a kabob – I eat it cautiously, almost leaning forward with each bite, careful not to drip any of the spicy sauce on my new outfit.

As I continue my half-hearted search for my cousins, a foot shoots out from behind a street booth, tripping me and causing the rest of my kabob to go rolling down the path, getting coated in dirt and dust. I look up, surprised, to find two other children pointing and laughing at me – Sai and Danikka. Sai, a scarlet-skinned fire genasi, is a notorious bully, and Danikka, a blue dragonborn, simply runs with him because she’s the tallest girl in our small little school and all the other kids are afraid of her.

“Why don’t you watch where you’re going, weird eyes?” Sai goads me.

“AAAAWWWWWW, you gonna cry?” Danikka whines as she chimes in, making me feel that much smaller as she towers over my body, now covered in dirt and kabob sauce. A fire begins to burn deep within me, and my ears and neck start to flush with anger as I pick myself up off the ground. “If you can’t watch your step with those eyes, then maybe you only need one of them!” Danikka threatens, and I barely get my fists up in front of my face in time to deflect her right fist as it comes sailing towards my left eye. Relief floods my system for a moment, and I let my guard down too soon as her opposite hand shoots out with a parry, hitting me square in the eye socket. I stumble backwards in pain, holding my left eye and trying not to cry; disoriented by the thumping of blood as my face begins to swell, I trip again – this time on myself – and fall backwards into a vacant market booth.

I scramble, nearly bear-crawling part of the way until I can properly erect myself, as I watch Sai closing in on me, a cruel grin on his face. He grabs for my ankle as I right myself, only catching the fabric on my loose, baggy new pant leg instead, causing the seam to split as I wriggle out of his grip. I dart off into the streets, my left eye wet with eye-watering pain, and I can hear the two of them giving chase as I dart like a gazelle in and out of alcoves and alleyways, trying to lose them.

After toppling a basket-weaver’s display stand to slow them down, I zigzag my way to a side street and duck beneath another empty booth where I crawl inside the booth’s sliding compartment door beneath the countertop. I wait here for what feels like forever, hearing them find my route, search briefly for me, then move on, still calling my name in unnatural sing-songy voices. I emerge from my hiding place, looking about feverishly for any signs of them, before an altogether different voice takes me by surprise.

“Why do you run, child?” asks a deep, velvety voice from behind me. I jump and turn with my fists raised in reactive terror. Rather than Sai or Danikka though, I see a tall tabaxi man, striped black and orange with a white neck. He stands from his stool behind the merchant booth next to mine, and I can tell there is no way he works at the bazaar: his clothing is much too fancy-looking to be a merchant. He steps forward to share my booth with me, his striped tail flitting back and forth gently from beneath his jade and gold colored brocade robe.

I keep my fists raised, mostly out of mind-numbing fear, as he walks softly on padded feline feet. “Don't allow those hooligans to cause you any despair - I can tell that you are strong and will go on to great things,” he reassures me with a wink, slowly and cautiously bringing one hand up to dust off my shoulders while the other hand lifts a pipe to his mouth. Squinting with my one good eye, I do a double-take before realizing that there is something off about this man’s hands since they look like they are on the wrong wrists. I catch myself staring and quickly – and likely obviously – try to avert my eyes. He doesn’t seem to either notice or care as he continues, “Oh, where are my manners, I suppose I should tell you my name so that I'm not a stranger: you may call me Gilgapaka. And what is yours?"

I swallow a hard, dry lump in my throat before looking up into his large, golden, vertical-slitted eyes – “My name is Ka’l,” is all I can get out. My whole head is now throbbing with pain, and I feel too dizzy to run even though my mind is telling me I should; even so, he seems kind enough to feel bad for me. My eyes, his hands…maybe we’re not all that different after all? Maybe he knows how I feel? Wishing Papa was here, I break down in tears and briefly sob into the tiger-striped man’s side before quickly pulling myself back and rubbing my eyes dry.

“My, what a lovely name that is,” the tabaxi gentleman says as he gently brushes my hair from my face, tucking some of it behind my left ear, “could you write it down for me?" He pulls from his pocket a large piece of parchment covered in lots of beautifully-written words, a lot of them pretty long. I feel bad writing on the paper as it looks important, so when he offers me his piece of charcoal, I try to squeeze my name down in the bottom section that doesn’t have any words on it. He holds it up to the waning sunlit sky as the moons begin their encroachment upon the sun, slowly closing in on both sides of it with each passing moment leading up to the midday eclipse that is to take place in a mere matter of hours. I look up at the parchment, too – I feel a small amount of shame at the sight of my penmanship, shaky with leftover adrenaline coursing through my body like a frightened mouse. He seems pleased with it though since I see him smile at it before saying, “Thank you – I hope we meet again soon, young Ka'l. If I see those nasty children again, I’ll be sure to teach them a lesson for you…and remember: you’re very special. Don’t go forgetting it."

I open my mouth to speak, but no words come out. He takes one more long puff from his pipe before leaving me alone in the abandoned booth and striding off into the street. I rub my eyes again, but when I look back up, he is gone altogether from the path. Suddenly curious, I rush out into the street, looking this way and that way for any sign of him among the other people milling about in the bazaar, but there is no sign of him anywhere. I don’t even hear the voice of Mama calling out to me as I look down at my clothes…there is not a stitch out of place nor stain to be found.

Quick credit to my amazing cousin (and - coincidentally - the person behind this PC) for helping me with the amazing photos up top.

If you’re interested in keeping up to date with posts on our story’s characters and their origins, let me know (and thank you to all who already have interest)!

Ye Olde Taglist: @serenewrites​, @mayvinwrites​

[mashitandsmashit]

America’s Got Talent: Season 14 - Ranking the Top 36

I was thinking of grading everyone’s individual performances and give a final overall score to them in order to rank them...But honestly, why should I do that? At the end of the day, there are just some acts that I will remember over others as time goes by...So it all comes down to that, how far they made it, how consistent they were (and to be honest, nobody this season really was aside from V.Unbeatable) and how much I would be willing to see them in a show (especially in Vegas).

No need for any descriptions...I think everything that needed to be said about each of them has been said...

So here we go!

36: Nick & Lindsay

35: The Sentimentalists

34: Gonzo

33: Ansley Burns

32: MacKenzie

31: Matthew Richardson

30: Emerald Belles

29: Joseph Allen

28: GFORCE

27: Marina Mazepa

26: Carmen Carter

25: Sophie Pecora

24: Jackie Fabulous

23: Greg Morton

22: Lukas & Falco

21: Bir Khalsa

20: Charlotte Summers

19: Chris Klafford

18: Luke Islam

17: Berywam

16: Eric Chien

15: Dom Chambers

14: Detroit Youth Choir

13: Tyler Butler-Figueroa

12: Benicio Bryant

11: Voices of Service

10: Messoudi Brothers

9: Alex Dowis

8: Emanne Beasha

7: Kodi Lee

6: Ndlovu Youth Choir

5: Ryan Niemiller

4: Marcin Patrzalek

3: Robert Finley

2: Light Balance Kids

1: V.Unbeatable

I look forward to FrankDoc’s Top 10/20/Whatever list where he may go into more detail with his favorites than I did...

So I guess I’ll end on a few announcements...First of all, I’m working on moving my blogs to WordPress (since that’s apparently the company buying out Tumblr, and I hear they’re a much better blogging site anyway...All Tumblr really had was its smutty artwork, which is being censored now, hence why nobody’s using it anymore...) But before I make the move completely, there’s something else I would like to move there...

Not too long ago, it came to my attention that my posts on the AGT “Community” page back on good ol’ TV.com were back up...Not sure if they still are, because I can’t seem to navigate the site at the moment, due to some errors (classic TV.com, you won’t be missed). But I’m going to keep checking in for if and when the page comes back, so that I can move all of my blogs from Season 11 onward (shame the forums where I posted my earlier stuff is gone) to the new place and archive them, in order to assure that I never lose my valued written articles again...

But I have plenty of time before Champions 2 to look into all that...Speaking of which, I once again must reiterate that I hope the next Champions has more focus on losing acts...If there are any acts that won any Got Talent shows, it should be the ones from other countries...Still, there is always the possibility that they will include Terry Fator, Michael Grimm, Landau Eugene Murphy Jr., Olate Dogs, Mat Franco or Grace VanderWaal...Or hell, maybe they’ll just bring back some acts that were there for the last one, because we don’t know whether or not an act can do Champions more than once...

I wish I could join the “Superfans”, but that would require me to go to Los Angeles, which I have neither the time, money or resources to do...The good news is, if Detroit Youth Choir is there, I don’t think they’ll go nearly as far this time, because from what I understand, there will only be ONE voter from Michigan this time...We don’t even know if they’ll be from Detroit!

But speaking of acts like DYC who got as far as they did based on their story (and in their case, being backed up by hundreds of family members and the entire city of Detroit), the results of this season just brings to my attention just how biased Simon (and the judges in general) can be!

The problem with them is that they’re not willing to weed though singers with emotional backstories and call them out when they weren’t as good as before, while still holding much tougher standards for other acts...I know I keep holding up Charlotte Summers as some kind of martyr, but I just want to use her for an example...Compare her performance of “Diamonds Are Forever” to that song that Kodi did in the Semi-Finals...I don’t know about you, but I found the former performance to be more interesting, entertaining, and well-sung! Sure, it wasn’t the best song choice for her, but it stood out while still giving a good display of her vocal abilities!

So why were they so tough on her while giving Kodi an easy pass? Well, I guess it’s because what Simon sees as the gold standard in a singing act is “emotional connection”. In other words, he likes it when the song is all sappy and wholesome, because it helps boost the story of the act! But I don’t watch a musician just to be moved, I watch them first and foremost to be entertained!

Doesn’t matter to them though, as the only critiques they can muster up for acts like Kodi, Tyler and DYC are “You are inspiring! You are special! You bring joy to everyone! Blah, blah, blah, sappy sentimental crap, blah!” All three of those acts gradually stagnated, and if I was a judge, I would have let them know that! I’m not doing it to be mean to anyone, I’m just trying to be constructive! Sure, I have my preferences to who SHOULD advance, but at the end of the day, my job is to give my opinion, which is something our current judges seem to lack (except for Howie now and then...)

So why NOT be a judge!? That’s why next season, I plan on finally putting my livestream idea that I mentioned before into motion! For one thing, I finally quit my godforsaken retail job around the time the Quarter-Finals started...And I think this show could use a judge like me more than ever!

Only thing is, my two Youtube videos talking about the Semi-Finalists barely got any attention, and each of them got a dislike, against one like in the first and none in the second...(It may be someone who disagrees with something I said, or it could be someone who’s waiting for me to review another animated movie, but either way, it’s pretty discouraging...) Perhaps I could use some advice on how to improve my content and get more people’s attention...Got anything for me, Frank...?

Though if I do it, it won’t be for the next Champions, because what’s the point of starting it with a series that I can’t vote on and will have already happened months ago by the time it airs?

So I guess that’s about it for now...In closing, AGT Season 14 sucked! Thank you. Frank, I give the floor to you...

[gaming-rabbot]

Salmon Run and Presentation

A (not so) brief dissertation on narrative framing in video games, featuring Splatoon 2

With the holidays in full swing, I took advantage of a deal one day when I went into town, and finally got my hands on Splatoon 2. Having loved the prior game as much as I did, waiting this long to get the sequel felt almost wrong. But like many another fellow meandering corpus of conscious flesh, I am made neither of time nor money.

Finally diving in, I figured I might take this excuse to remember that I write game reviews, sometimes. You know, when the tide is high, the moon blue, and the writer slightly less depressed. I ended up scrapping my first couple drafts, however. You see, a funny thing was happening; I kept veering back into talking about Salmon Run, the new optional game mode the sequel introduces.

Also I might look at the Octo Expansion later, on its own. After I get around to it…

Look, the base game already has a lot of content to explore, and as previously stated, I am sadly corporeal, and not strung together with the metaphysical concept of time itself.

My overall thoughts, however, proved brief, so I’ll try to keep this short.

(Mild spoilers coming along.)

Gameplay wise, I think the story mode is much improved upon by handing you different weapons for certain levels which were specifically built with them in mind. Whereas the prior game left you stuck with a variant of the starter splattershot all the way through. This keeps things interesting, pushes me outside of my comfort zone, and it’s a good way to make sure players will come from a well-informed place when deciding what weapon they want for multiplayer; which, let’s face it, is the real meat of these games and where most players are going to log the most time.

I also love the way bosses are introduced with the heavy drums and rhythmic chants and the dramatic light show. It endows the moment with a fantastic sense of gravitas, and manages to hype me up every time. Then the boss will have an aspect of their design which feels a bit silly or some how rather off, keeping the overall tone heavily grounded in the toony aesthetics the series already established for itself.

Narratively, I felt rather okay about the story aspect of Story Mode. The collectible pages in the levels still have a certain amount of world building, though this time it seems more skewed toward explaining what pop culture looks like in this world, such as, an allusion to this world’s equivalent to Instagram.

Cynical as it is…

That’s definitely still interesting in its own right, though perhaps it’s less of a revelatory gut-punch as slowly piecing it together that the game takes place in the post-apocalypse of Earth itself, and the inklings copied ancient human culture.

We still got some backstory for this game’s idol duo, though. And that, I appreciate. It means Pearl and Marina still feel like a part of this world, rather than seeming obligatory for the sake of familiarity, given the first game had an idol duo as well.

Meanwhile, perhaps it is a bit obvious that Marie’s cousin, Callie, has gone rogue, and that she is the mysterious entity cracking into the radio transmissions between her and Agent 4. If I recall correctly, that was a working theory that came about with the first trailer or two. That, or she had died.

As soon as Marie says aloud she wonders where Callie has gone, I knew right away. And that’s just in the introduction.

That said, on some level, after stomaching through certain other games and such that actively lie or withhold information to force an arbitrary plot twist for plot twist sake, it feels almost nice to go back to a narrative that actually bothers to foreshadow these things. Plus, having gotten already invested in Callie as a character from the first game, I still felt motivated to see the story through to find out why she went rogue. And, loving the Squid Sisters already, there was a hope in me that she could be redeemed, or at least understood. In terms of building off the prior game’s story, Splatoon 2 is moderately decent.

Also, I mean, c’mon. The big narrative drive might be a tad predictable, but hey, this game is for kids. It’s fine.

That, I think, is something I love the most about Splatoon. Despite feeling like you’re playing in a Saturday morning cartoon, and being aimed primarily at children, it doesn’t shy away from fairly heavy subjects. Such as the aforementioned fact that the humans are all long dead and you’re basically playing paintball in the ruins of their consumerist culture.

Which brings me to what fascinates me so much about Splatoon 2: the way in which Salmon Run is framed.

You see, on the surface, Salmon Run appears to be your typical horde mode; a cooperative team (typically comprised of randoms) fights off gaggles of foes as they take turns approaching their base in waves. Pretty standard for online shooters these days, as was modernly popularized by Gears of War 2, and Halo ODST.

I say “modernly,” as the notion of fighting enemies as they approach in waves is not exactly a new concept for mechanical goals within video games. Rather, the term itself, as applied to multiplayer shooters, “horde mode,” became a point of game discussion when Gears of War 2 introduced the new game mode by that same name back in… 2008?

No, no that can’t be right. I played Gears 2 back in high school (I had worse taste back then, okay?). Which, from my perspective, was basically yesterday. That game being ten years old would mean I myself am old now, and that just can’t be. I’m hip. I’m young.

I am, to stay on theme here, fresh.

But okay, existential crises and game talk terms aside, the writing team behind Splatoon 2 probably decided to absolutely flex when it came to the narrative surrounding Salmon Run. It is one of the most gleaming examples of the nontraditional things you can do with writing in video games, to really elevate the experience.

Let me explain.

You see, narrative in video games typically falls into one of two categories: either the story sits comfortably inside of the game, utilizing it like a vehicle to arrive at the destination that is its audience’s waiting eyes and ears. Or the narrative, on some level, exists rather nebulously, primarily to provide something resembling context for why the pixels look the way they do, and why the goals are what they are.

Not to say this is a binary state of existence for game writing; narrative will of course always provide context for characters, should there be any. It’s primarily older, or retro games that give you a pamphlet or brief intro with little in the way of worrying over character motivation, and the deeper philosophical implications of the plot, etc (though not for lack of trying). These would be your classic Mario Bros. and what have you, where the actual game part of the video game is nearly all there is to explore in the overall experience.

Then you have games like Hotline Miami that purposely sets up shop right in the middle to make a meta commentary about the state of game narrative, using the ideological endpoint of violent 80’s era action and revenge-fantasy genre film as inspiration and the starting point to draw comparison between the two. It’s bizarre, and I could drone on about this topic.

But I digress.

Despite falling into that latter category, that is to say having mainly just an introduction to the narrative context so you can get on with playing the game, Salmon Run is a stellar example of how you can make every bit of that context count (even if it does require the added context of the rest of the game, sort of, which I’ll explain, trust me).

First, a (very) brief explanation of how the game itself works, for the maybe three of you who haven’t played it yet.

A team of up to four inklings (and/or octolings) have a small island out in open waters. Salmonid enemies storm the beaches from various angles in waves. Each wave also comes with (at least) one of eight unique boss variants, who all drop three golden eggs upon defeat. Players are tasked with gathering a number of said golden eggs each round, for three rounds, after which their failure or success in doing so shows slow or fast progress towards in-game rewards.

And it’s all an allegory for the poor treatment of labor/workers, utilizing the fishing industry as both an example and a thematically appropriate analogue. Yes, I’m serious.

First, Salmon Run is not available through the main doors like the other multiplayer modes. Rather, it is off to the side, down a dingy looking alley. And when you’re shown its location, either because you finally entered the Inkopolis plaza for the first time, or because the mode has entered rotation again, Marina very expressly describes it as a job.

A job you should only do if you are absolutely, desperately hard strapped for cash. You know, the sort of job you turn to if, for one reason or another, you can’t find a better one.

An aside: technically, playing Salmon Run does not automatically net you in-game currency, with which to buy things, as regular multiplayer modes do. Rather, your “pay” is a gauge you fill by playing, which comes with reward drops at certain thresholds; some randomized gacha style capsules, and one specific piece of gear which gets advertised, to incentivize playing.

The capsules themselves drop actual paychecks in the form of aforementioned currency, or meal tickets to get temporary buffs that help you progress in the multiplayer faster via one way or another. Which, hey, you know, that helps you earn more money also. Working to get “paid,” so you can get things you want, though, still works perfectly for the metaphor it creates.

When I first saw it open up for rotation, I found out you had to be at least a level four to participate. Pretty par for the course, considering it’s the same deal with the gear shops. But, again, it’s all in the presentation; Mr. Grizz does not simply say something akin to the usual “you must be this tall to ride.” He says he cannot hire inexperienced inklings such as yourself, because it’s a legal liability.

After returning with three extra levels, I was handed off to basic, on-the-job training. Which is only offered after Mr. Grizz (not ever physically present, mind you, but communicating with you via radio), the head of Grizzco, uses fairly typical hard sell rhetoric when it comes to dangerous, or otherwise undesirable work: calls you kid, talks about shaping the future and making the world a better place, refers to new hires as “fresh young talent,” says you’ll be “a part of something bigger than yourself.” You know, the usual balancing act of flattery, with just the right amount of belittlement.

Whoa, hang on, sorry; just had a bad case of deja vu from when the recruiter that worked with the ROTC back in high school tried to get me to enlist… several times… Guess he saw the hippie glasses and long hair and figured I'd be a gratifying challenge.

The fisher imagery really kicks in when you play. Which, I figure a dev team working out of Japan might have a pretty decent frame of reference for that. A boat whisks you out to sea with your team, and everyone’s given a matching uniform involving a bright orange jumper, and rubber boots and gloves. If you've ever seen the viral video of the fisherman up to his waist in water telling you not to give up, you have a rough idea. Oh, and don't forget your official Grizzco trademark hats.

It’s on the job itself where a lot of what I'm talking about comes up the most; that is to say, despite buttering you up initially, Mr. Grizz shows his true colors pretty quickly. While playing, he seems to only be concerned with egg collecting, even when his employees are actively hurting. This is established and compounded by his dialogue prior to the intermediate training level, in which informs you about the various boss fish.

Before you can do anything remotely risky, even boss salmonid training, Mr. Grizz tells you he has to go over this 338 page workplace health and safety manual with you. But, oops, the new hire boat sounds the horn as you flip to page 1, so he sends you off unprepared. “Let’s just say you’ve read it,” he tells you, insisting that learning by doing is best.

This flagrant disregard employee safety, in the name of met quotas; the fact we never see Mr. Grizz face to face, making him this vague presence that presides over you, evaluating your stressed performance with condescension; that we are not simply given the rewards as we pass thresholds to earn them, having to instead speak with another, unknown npc for our pay… It all drives toward the point so well.

The icing on the cake for me is when a match ends. You, the player, are not asked if you’d like to go back into matchmaking for another fun round of playtime. Rather, you are asked if you would like to “work another shift.”

The pieces all fit so well together. I shouldn’t be surprised that, once a theme is chosen, Splatoon can stick to it like my hand to rubber cement that one time. It has already proven it can do that much for sure. But it’s just so… funny? It’s bitterly, cynically hilarious.

Bless the individual(s) who sat in front of their keyboard, staring at the early script drafts, and asked aloud if they were really about to turn Mr. Grizz into a projection of all the worst aspects of the awful bosses they’ve had to deal with in life. The answer to that question being “yes” has led to some of my favorite writing in a video game.

All of these thoughts, as they started forming in my skull, really began to bubble when I noticed Salmon Run shifts become available during my first Splatfest.

Splatfest is, to try and put it in realistic terms, basically a huge, celebratory sporting event. Participation nets you a free commemorative t-shirt and access to a pumping concert featuring some of the hottest artists currently gracing the Inkopolis charts.

The idea, the notion, that a hip young inkling (or octoling) might miss out on one of the biggest parties of the year because they need money more than they need fun? It’s downright depressing.

It got me thinking. I looked at my fellow egg collectors. In-universe, we were a bunch of teen-to-young-adult aged denizens missing out on all the fun because we desperately needed the cash. We became stressed together, overworked together, yelled at by our boss together. But in those sweetest victories, where we’d far surpassed our quota? We celebrated together.

Spam-crouching, and mashing the taunt, something changed. I felt a greater sense of comradery with these squids and octos than I did in nearly any other coop game. And it’s all thanks to the rhetorical framing of the game mode.

It accomplishes so many things. It’s world building which wholistically immerses you in the setting. But mainly, its dedication to highly specific word choice does exactly what I mentioned earlier: it elevates the experience to one I could really sit down and think about, rather than use to while away the hours, then move on to something else. So many games make horde modes that feel inconsequential like that; it’s just for fun.

There’s nothing wrong with fun being the only mission statement for a game, or an optional mode of play. But this is exactly what I mean when I say this is the nontraditional writing games can do so much more with. And Splatoon 2 saw that opportunity, and took it. And what a fantastic example of bittersweet, cold reality, in this, a bright, colorful game meant mainly for children…

Happy Holidays, everyone!

[lvtvr]

Deepest Shade fic playlist

i made one bc i am Basic™. updated as i go along! it’s gonna be so fuckin long lads

note: the final song on this playlist is instrumental music that gives off the noir vibe i’m going for, so it’s good to just have on in the background while reading!

read the fic

listen on youtube

listen on spotify

Tracklist

Feeling Good - Michael Bublé

Donatella - Lady Gaga {warning: potentially triggering lyrics re: eating disorders}

Autumn Leaves (jazz standard)

La cathédrale engloutie - Claude Debussy

Reflets dans l’eau - Claude Debussy

Nights Of Love - Papa Roach

Toxic - Britney Spears (Postmodern Jukebox cover)

Blow Your Mind (Mwah) - Dua Lipa

Runaway (U & I) - Galantis

How To Be A Heartbreaker - Marina and the Diamonds

Ain’t My Fault - Zara Larsson

Gambling Man - The Overtones

Desire - Meg Myers

The Man - The Killers

Call Me Devil - Friends In Tokyo

Chandelier - Sia

Dazzle - Oh Wonder

Casual Affair - Panic! at the Disco

Just (Tap) Dance - Lady Gaga (Postmodern Jukebox cover)

Kung - Samir & Viktor

Heaven Knows - The Pretty Reckless

Hit & Run - Hayley Kiyoko

Fever - Peggy Lee cover by Sloane Skylar ft. Shaun Canon {original version on Spotify}

Million Dollar Man - Lana Del Rey

I’m A Wanted Man - Royal Deluxe

I Don’t Care - Fall Out Boy

Runnin’ - Adam Lambert

BLUE - Troye Sivan ft. Alex Hope

Hotter Than Hell - Dua Lipa

After Party - Adore Delano

Stay - Zedd, Alessia Cara

Trouble - Valérie Broussard

Oops!... I Did It Again - Britney Spears (Postmodern Jukebox cover)

Still Falling For You - Ellie Goulding

Buy The Stars - Marina and the Diamonds

Constellations - Adore Delano

No Money - Galantis

Symphony - Clean Bandit ft. Zara Larsson

Ambient jazz music

more notes/thoughts about each song under the cut! ♡

Feeling Good: This was the song that inspired the fic. It was originally going to be a oneshot, and this was my soundtrack for it. Love that big band swing. Also I’ve heard from a reliable source that it has a James Bond vibe, which is just *ok sign*

Donatella: I’ve listened to this song so many times while writing this. So many. It was originally my sassy Lance song, but is also an A+ Lotor song ksdlgjsg

Autumn Leaves, Reflets, Cathédrale: Played on the piano by Lance in ch. 1. I picked the Debussy songs because they’re both water themed.

Nights Of Love: HOLY SHIT THIS SONG. A forgotten gem from my long-buried emo phase, this song is ridiculous and a bit embarrassing and incredibly indulgent. This song is this entire fic in music form. I am so happy. *wipes tear*

Toxic: Look, you just don’t need to explain why Toxic is on a smut fic playlist. Ever.

Blow Your Mind (Mwah): Possibly one of the most Klance songs ever. Just look up the lyrics trust me on this. Also the video is kinda gay and full of hot girls like can blonde pixie and camo shirt both date me pls

Runaway (U&I): God. This is so Lance I die. “I know that I’m rich enough for pride” GOD leave me alone

How To Be A Heartbreaker: I fuckin love this song and I can’t believe I didn’t put it on here earlier, so thanks to the asker who reminded me that I should.

Ain’t My Fault: Just ... a good thirst song in general.

Gambling Man: Self-explanatory. Recommended bg music for chapter 2.

Desire: It’s just. Sexy. And honestly reflects what I imagine Keith’s sexuality to be like? Very wild, untamed, yet needy as fuck

The Man: This was recced by Yulivee @AO3 as a good song for Lance and the act he puts on!! 

Call Me Devil: The Lotor song holy shit im dyin scoob

Chandelier: Langst™ Dazzle: THIS SONG IS SO IMPORTANT THIS SONG WAS MADE FOR THIS FIC I HONESTLY CANNOT DEAL IM A MESS PLEASE LISTEN TO IT. Also this was originally from Ruvi’s playlist for this fic!!

Casual Affair: This is what I listened to while I was writing the first scene in chapter 5. I love it so much. Also from Ruvi’s list.

Just (Tap) Dance: That’s right!! From Ruvi’s list!! Why don’t I just put u in charge of the fic, mate. Also I like this version better than the original tbh

Kung: Okay listen I’m sorry but I couldn’t resist......... this is basically a trashy Swedish party song about living like a king and there’s one line that goes “boys who struggle, cry and fight / no one can lose it like we do” and I just. Listened to it a lot while thinking about Lance and Lotor. It’s an open secret that I love trashy pop music so just indulge me here DJSDKGJdg

Heaven Knows: Gives me a Keith vibe just in general???

Hit & Run: I love this song so much. Inspired the piano bar scene. From Ruvi’s list.

Fever: This is what Lance plays at the bar and I would DIE for this version I love it SO MUCH.

Million Dollar Man: This is about Lotor. Got dam. (thanks Ruvi im just stealing all of ur recs jsgjsdg)

I’m A Wanted Man: Also gives me a Keith vibe. Good for when I’m thinking about his backstory.

I Don’t Care: I listen to this to picture Keith thirsting for Lance tbh

Runnin’: GOD I love this and you can actually interpret it as being about any char but for me? It’s Lotor. Most definitely.

BLUE: Keith’s feelings for Lance. catch me crying in the club

Hotter Than Hell: Listen I’m always here for that good sexy content and this is it aaa (also this artist is like my age im???? wow)

After Party: the actual best lancelot porn song bye

Stay: This was recced by Sky, and, well, Klance.

Trouble: I love this song so much?? Just the vibe and her voice and everything? I mostly put it on here to indulge myself. (Also, I found it via that space cowboys AU by Mytay on AO3, so check that out if y’all wanna!!)

Oops!... I Did It Again: Lancelot!!! Also I fuckin’ love these covers, goddamn.

Still Falling For You: Okay so I couldn’t resist putting this on here too, because it’s like... the quintessential (heh) Klance song. If your Klance dynamic doesn’t fit this song, you’re not doing Klance right; that’s just an objective fact.

Buy The Stars: The Lancelot Song, pals. oh my god. ohhhhhhh my god.

Constellations: this is for a scene that hasn’t appeared in the fic yet but oh boy am i crying

No Money: This is a Lance song and I’m not telling you why.

Symphony: Sky linked me this one too and I have been crying ever since I think y’all can figure this one out for urselves aaaa

[nightmare-afton-cosplay]

Tom Hanks’ Old Houseboat Is for Sale—So Why Aren’t Buyers Biting?

realtor.com

Tom Hanks once lived in a houseboat? That’s right—a floating home in Alameda, CA, in fact—and it’s just hit the market for $600,000.

The backstory: Long before he skyrocketed to fame, the teenage Hanks humbly lived on this 1,152-square-foot, two-bedroom houseboat docked at Alameda’s Barnhill Marina. The place belonged to Hanks’ father, Amos, and his stepmother, Frances, and the family shared the space from 1973 to 1976, when Hanks was in his late teens.

Need proof? Hanks himself confirmed the rumor on Twitter and Instagram.

View this post on Instagram

It’s true. Lived on this from ‘73-‘76. Amos, Frances and me. Hanx.

A post shared by Tom Hanks (@tomhanks) on Oct 10, 2018 at 2:51pm PDT

We couldn’t help but wonder if this endorsement would attract dozens of eager buyers looking to get a little closer to Hanks. After all, the actor boasts 15.4 million followers on Twitter, and 5.4 million on Instagram.

But so far, that hasn’t helped at all, according to listing agent Angela McIntyre at Alain Pinel Realtors. McIntyre hosted two open houses this past weekend, and the turnout was “abysmal.”

Six potential buyers showed up on Saturday, while eight cruised through the home on Sunday. And of those 14 people, only one had seen Hanks’ social media posts. So far, those showings have not spurred any offers.

“You have no idea how disappointed I am,” McIntyre says. “I thought we were going to be mobbed.”

Why Tom Hanks’ old houseboat isn’t reeling in buyers

We can see why life on the water isn’t for everyone, but this property certainly has A-list appeal. So what gives?

Tom Hanks once lived on this floating home in Alameda, CA.

realtor.com

The $600,000 price tag isn’t the problem, according to McIntyre, who also lives in the Alameda floating-home community.

“This is an incredibly fair price,” she says.

Compared with some of the other 42 homes in the Barnhill Marina, Hanks’ old home seems fairly priced. A 600-square-foot home in the community will typically sell for $400,000, and the largest 1,700-square-foot residences run for around $800,000.

McIntyre notes that the price won’t deter folks looking for a floating home—they’re willing to cough up the cash for the lifestyle.

“If you’re spending that money, you’re buying to live here,” she says. “You enjoy the water and want the ability to walk out your door and go paddleboarding.”

The rustic interior

realtor.com

While Hanks’ old digs may in fact be reasonably priced, there’s one thing that could be scaring away potential buyers: After years on the water, the house clearly shows wear and tear.

The interior of the abode needs a complete overhaul, says Jordan Barkin, an agent with Harry Norman Realtors, an affiliate of Christie’s International Real Estate, in Atlanta.

“The residence’s lack of updated amenities will likely keep it from fetching top dollar,” he adds.

Hanks’ old digs include two bedrooms and one bathroom.

realtor.com

The floating home’s living area, kitchen, and bedrooms are 45 years old, and their rustic looks won’t attract 21st-century buyers.

While the interior needs work, the exterior recently received a total renovation. The previous owners replaced all of the wood covering the house and hull—the nautical version of building a new foundation and a new roof. They also added a new fiberglass coating to the home, boosting its life expectancy by at least 35 to 40 more years.

As a result, McIntyre says, “The next owners can expect this home to last a lifetime.”

Even with these exterior updates, Barkin is skeptical another buyer will want to follow in Hanks’ footsteps.

“Buy the home for the view, but not much more,” he says.

The post Tom Hanks’ Old Houseboat Is for Sale—So Why Aren’t Buyers Biting? appeared first on Real Estate News & Insights | realtor.com®.

from https://www.realtor.com/news/celebrity-real-estate/tom-hanks-houseboat-for-sale/

[davidoespailla]

Tom Hanks’ Old Houseboat Is for Sale—So Why Aren’t Buyers Biting?

realtor.com

Tom Hanks once lived in a houseboat? That’s right—a floating home in Alameda, CA, in fact—and it’s just hit the market for $600,000.

The backstory: Long before he skyrocketed to fame, the teenage Hanks humbly lived on this 1,152-square-foot, two-bedroom houseboat docked at Alameda’s Barnhill Marina. The place belonged to Hanks’ father, Amos, and his stepmother, Frances, and the family shared the space from 1973 to 1976, when Hanks was in his late teens.

Need proof? Hanks himself confirmed the rumor on Twitter and Instagram.

View this post on Instagram

It’s true. Lived on this from ‘73-‘76. Amos, Frances and me. Hanx.

A post shared by Tom Hanks (@tomhanks) on Oct 10, 2018 at 2:51pm PDT

We couldn’t help but wonder if this endorsement would attract dozens of eager buyers looking to get a little closer to Hanks. After all, the actor boasts 15.4 million followers on Twitter, and 5.4 million on Instagram.

But so far, that hasn’t helped at all, according to listing agent Angela McIntyre at Alain Pinel Realtors. McIntyre hosted two open houses this past weekend, and the turnout was “abysmal.”

Six potential buyers showed up on Saturday, while eight cruised through the home on Sunday. And of those 14 people, only one had seen Hanks’ social media posts. So far, those showings have not spurred any offers.

“You have no idea how disappointed I am,” McIntyre says. “I thought we were going to be mobbed.”

Why Tom Hanks’ old houseboat isn’t reeling in buyers

We can see why life on the water isn’t for everyone, but this property certainly has A-list appeal. So what gives?

Tom Hanks once lived on this floating home in Alameda, CA.

realtor.com

The $600,000 price tag isn’t the problem, according to McIntyre, who also lives in the Alameda floating-home community.

“This is an incredibly fair price,” she says.

Compared with some of the other 42 homes in the Barnhill Marina, Hanks’ old home seems fairly priced. A 600-square-foot home in the community will typically sell for $400,000, and the largest 1,700-square-foot residences run for around $800,000.

McIntyre notes that the price won’t deter folks looking for a floating home—they’re willing to cough up the cash for the lifestyle.

“If you’re spending that money, you’re buying to live here,” she says. “You enjoy the water and want the ability to walk out your door and go paddleboarding.”

The rustic interior

realtor.com

While Hanks’ old digs may in fact be reasonably priced, there’s one thing that could be scaring away potential buyers: After years on the water, the house clearly shows wear and tear.

The interior of the abode needs a complete overhaul, says Jordan Barkin, an agent with Harry Norman Realtors, an affiliate of Christie’s International Real Estate, in Atlanta.

“The residence’s lack of updated amenities will likely keep it from fetching top dollar,” he adds.

Hanks’ old digs include two bedrooms and one bathroom.

realtor.com

The floating home’s living area, kitchen, and bedrooms are 45 years old, and their rustic looks won’t attract 21st-century buyers.

While the interior needs work, the exterior recently received a total renovation. The previous owners replaced all of the wood covering the house and hull—the nautical version of building a new foundation and a new roof. They also added a new fiberglass coating to the home, boosting its life expectancy by at least 35 to 40 more years.

As a result, McIntyre says, “The next owners can expect this home to last a lifetime.”

Even with these exterior updates, Barkin is skeptical another buyer will want to follow in Hanks’ footsteps.

“Buy the home for the view, but not much more,” he says.

The post Tom Hanks’ Old Houseboat Is for Sale—So Why Aren’t Buyers Biting? appeared first on Real Estate News & Insights | realtor.com®.

Tom Hanks’ Old Houseboat Is for Sale—So Why Aren’t Buyers Biting?