#yes this game crashes itself once a session yes I’m having an incredible time

[imgoingtocrash]

criticize starfield all you want but i think this little stuffed dog having a wonderful meal in the middle of a completely decimated NASA facility is top tier

[zephyrthejester]

Three Years Blog Anniversary!

Well, would you look at that. In the blink of an eye, an entire year has gone by! It has now been a grand total of three years since I started up this liveblog, and ever since, it's been a whirlwind of an adventure that has introduced me to amazing shows, amazing games, and above all, amazing people! As has become tradition, it's time for us to gather 'round by the fire, bundle up in blankets, sip some hot cocoa, and reminisce about the shenanigans we got up to in the year 2019.

You know the drill! Click "Keep Reading" to see the rest! Let's go!

January kicked off with the closing episodes to Steven Universe's fifth season, and what a finale it was! In true SU nature, it managed to be wholesome, funny, terrifying, and sad all at once! Not to mention the finale episode specifically, which was rife with both fan service and a breath-taking final confrontation. It even prompted me to type up three whole Addendum posts just so I could get all my thoughts out there. Intermingling with these episodes were some rather poignant and touching episodes of RWBY's 6th Volume, which saw some great plot advancements for some of my favorite characters. And of course, there was one liveblog session early on dedicated to Fate/Stay Night, a series I began back in 2018. And that would end up being the last I'd liveblog about it. Following the technical difficulties of the Visual Novel crashing at an important moment, I lost much of my motivation to keep going at it, putting Fate/Stay Night on the bench... For now. But more on Fate/Stay Night later.

Then came February! Where I proceeded to do absolutely nothing at all. For 42 days, I fell into a pretty bad funk that I called depression, at the time. Well! I must be in a better mental space right now, because until it came time to make this post, I forgot all about it! Moving past the shame I felt for wordlessly abandoning my blog and discord community for over a month, come March I pressed right into a brand new liveblog: Kill la Kill! A frenetic, frantic, freaky series that serves as the spiritual sequel to what was, once upon a time, my favorite anime ever: Gurren Lagann. I was immediately charmed by it's absurdist humor and over-the-top everything. However, it wasn't long before I succumbed to my greatest flaw. I'm exceptionally picky about what I liveblog, and sadly, Kill la Kill didn't tick the boxes that needed to be ticked for me to stick with it. I eventually dropped the series after only three episodes.

Needless to say, I was getting desperate to reinvigorate my lost momentum. It was then and there, at the tail end of March, that I introduced the most significant change to my brand ever: Liveblogging itself was being benched in favor of a fanciful second attempt at running my video game focused Youtube Channel! While I would certainly continue to liveblog new episodes of shows I had previously caught up with, my efforts would be redoubled and focused upon something I hoped would shake things up for me. I put in the effort of buying a new, fancy, high-tech microphone, and set about to new projects!

First up was a tense and troublesome self-imposed-challenge: A playthrough of Resident Evil 2 Remake on its hardest difficulty, with the added stipulation that I can never access the item storage box! My knowledge and skills of that game were put to the test as I skirted by the dangerous zombies and mutants while carrying only the bare essentials on my person. That series lasted 7 videos, plus a Highlight Reel, over about a week. My new microphone really brought out my screams of terror. Yes.

Immediately following the conclusion of the REmake 2 challenge run in early April, a new series debuted: A blind let's play of Subnautica! A simply incredible sci-fi survival game set on a planet that's nearly entirely an ocean... But much to my surprise, it was secretly a horror game all along. Spanning 18 episodes + a highlight reel between April 5th and May 23rd, we descended ever deeper into the abyss, deciphered alien riddles, fled from toothy leviathan-class predators, established a lovely home base, and had a great ol' time overall. A truly remarkable game with a surprisingly good story, for its genre, and it left me eagerly looking forward to making a Let's Play of its sequel: Below Zero.

Simultaneously, beginning on April 10th, I embarked upon yet another adventure that was of such a large scope, I made my channel's primary time slot dedicated to it. The Phoenix Wright Trilogy! A collection of the first three Visual Novels in a wonderful, wonderful series about the titular attorney at law. It wasn't long before I fell in love with this series, big time. It had everything! Immensely satisfying mysteries for me to solve, memorable and lovable characters, great pacing, and it knew how to keep things fresh and interesting. Although I started out the Let's Play by saying I wouldn't read everything aloud, that proved to be a lie. As of now, the series is a whopping 78 videos long (I do expect it to reach 100 before all is said and done), and I have given voice to roughly 50 unique characters so far. The series really helped awaken my Let's Play chops by improving my speech, vocal clarity, and focus. Swapping between my first video ever (for Legend of Grimrock II) and the most recent Phoenix Wright video is a real night-and-day difference! Overall, it's very safe to say that the series has stolen my heart. Unmatched hype, dizzying plot twists, and delightful shenanigans burst from the seams, truly. The Let's Play is currently ongoing, though the end is within sight...

As the Let's Plays of Subnautica and Phoenix Wright Trilogy progressed, so too did the production quality of my videos. I got a better grip on editing, improving the design of my video thumbnails and taking more care to edit out needless and dull moments of gameplay. I even introduced a brief and stylish video intro, which was my avatar appearing over a dark background before it faded off into gameplay. That would be the image up above! However, as we move into 2020, I’ve begun to feel that it could do with a slight improvement... Wink wink!

Following the end of Subnautica came a new Let's Play involving yet another sci-fi horror game: Prey! Spanning 25 videos + a highlight reel between June 3rd and November 19th, it immediately gripped me with its stunning attention to detail, marvelously crafted environments, and boundlessly creative gameplay. It was a pleasure to explore the varied regions of the Talos One space station, blasting aliens, uncovering secrets, untangling the connections between the employees there, and making some seriously difficult moral choices. A truly impressive video game that's just begging for a second playthrough on my own time at some point.

July 20th saw the beginning of new activity on my blog. In a spur-of-the-moment decision that I didn't think out too well, I brazenly announced out of nowhere that I would be doing a re-watch of Steven Universe! I proceeded to liveblog the first 11 episodes of Steven Universe over a week, lovingly looking back at the series' origins, calling out moments of foreshadowing, and analyzing everything with the lens of all my knowledge about the show. And then... Nothing! Just as soon as it began, the project was dropped. I had hoped it would rekindle my interest in Liveblogging (outside of new episodes of SU and RWBY), but I had no such luck. You know I'm burnt out when even Steven Universe, my favorite thing ever, can't help...

By September 3rd, the Steven Universe Movie had finally released! Over a hype-as-hell two days, I liveblogged the entire film. It truly was Steven Universe at its absolute best! Touching, sincere, unexpected, and rife with some stellar songs that are STILL stuck in my head. It proved that the Crewniverse hadn't lost its spark since the conclusion of the original series.

November 5th was my 25th birthday! My family celebrated by all going out for an amazing sushi dinner. Good times! Sometimes, it's really hard for me to grasp that I'm actually 25... I'm a kid at heart, really! Or maybe it's that I'm a social recluse who enjoys watching anime a little too much. Regardless, I feel no shame!

November 10th saw the debut of RWBY Volume 7, and so far it has been an exceptionally strong season. I've long maintained the opinion that the show gets better and better every season, and Volume 7 has given me no reason to doubt that. One episode in particular became my second favorite in the series, right behind a certain one from Volume 6! I'm really enjoying how the characters, new and old, are playing off each other this go around, and the fights and art direction have been no slouch either. This season's a looker! I'm really looking forward to seeing how it ends.

Hot on the heels of the ending Let's Play of Prey, I immediately started up a new series on November 20th... Chrono Trigger! A legendary and widely loved JRPG from the SNES era of gaming that I had somehow gone all my life without playing. Better late than never to fix a mistake like that! I eagerly dived in and nearly immediately understood why it's heralded as an all-time great. The series is currently 13 episodes long, and each one is an endless stream of me being hyped and giddy. I’m already excited to record more!

December 8th saw the debut of Steven Universe Future, a very special epilogue series that's sure to tie a nice bow on the franchise as a whole. As of this post, I have liveblogged the first 8 episodes, and it's fair to say that while it's not holding back in giving the audience exactly what it wants, it's also doing something very unexpected and very, very interesting with Steven himself. Only time will tell how it all ends and whether every remaining mystery will be answered, but so far I have been more than satisfied with it.

And that brings us to the present! Wow, it felt like a lot less happened this year than you would think, huh? No, it's been jam packed with new adventures! I think I am very content with how the year has gone, and I hope you are as well. We'll be striding into the year 2020 with more Steven Universe, more RWBY, more Phoenix Wright, and more Chrono Trigger! Plus, it may very well be that we'll see the return of Made in Abyss and Madoka Magica, both of which (I believe) are getting continuation movies in 2020. I may or may not be entirely wrong about this. Forgive me if I am...

In the near future, the Phoenix Wright Trilogy will be followed up by a Let's Play of Fate/Stay Night! Indeed, the canceled Liveblog will be reborn in youtube video form! And following Chrono Trigger, well... It's mostly up in the air, though I do have a few good ideas. In particular, I recently got a Virtual Reality system set up... Wink wink!

So that's really all there is to it! Cheers, lads! Cheers to a good year, and cheers to the next year being even better! To our good health, our unbreakable friendships, and all the stupid bullshit we’ll get into together! 2020 has arrived!

[readyplayerhobi]

Caramel Latte

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff

; Word Count: 2k

; Synopsis: You take Hoseok to a popular convention as a birthday present and get to see him in his element for once.

; A/N: Short and sweet, don’t expect much from it! :)

Peppermint 01

-

Saturday mornings are normally for sleeping in. Or at least, they are at Hoseok’s place you’ve discovered. He liked to either game or watch films till the early hours of the morning with you before crashing in bed for the next few hours. The lack of work the next day meant that he fully engaged in his night owl activities, even if you preferred to be in bed by 11. 

Recent events mean that sometimes he’ll change it up a little and go to bed at 2am instead of 3am, only he’ll spend that remaining time entertaining himself with you instead. Apparently, you were a worthy enough distraction to break him away from his important gaming sessions.

What that means normally, is that you can’t raise the man until at least 10am. Sometimes even 11. Or, after that intense StarCraft session he’d had the other month, 1pm. You’d soon discovered that your boyfriend sleeps like a rock and is nigh on impossible to wake until he’s ready, but you can never find it in yourself to be annoyed at him when he sleeps so cutely.

Dark hair a messy pile on his head, soft lashes creating dark shadows on his cheeks while his lips pursed out in the sweetest pout. And that’s to say nothing of the odd positions he gets himself into during the night hours. Yes, he’s a cute sleeper along with being a very, very deep sleeper.

But not today. Today, Jung Hoseok had woken far earlier than you had. In fact, by the time you were blinking blearily at the clock on the hotel bedside table he’d already showered and was halfway into his clothes. 

It takes you a few moments to recognise what you’re looking at before you’re sighing and rolling your eyes with a slight smile. A month ago, for his 31st birthday, you’d surprised him with tickets to GeekinCon, the largest pop culture convention in the country. It was ridiculously expensive, but it had been worth it to see his face light up with sheer excitement in a way that you’d never seen before.

He hadn’t even been this excited when you’d gotten together, or the first time you’d slept together. Which had made it all the more sweeter when he’d bounced, no vibrated, on the sofa next to you with the biggest smile on his face.

The last month had thus been spent with Hoseok frantically spending his free time constructing an outfit to wear. You hadn’t particularly understood what on earth he was on about at first, until he’d shown you pictures and you’d realised with growing horror that your awkward boyfriend, so shy that he flushed just being looked at, wanted to dress up as one of his favourite comic book characters.

And not only that, he’d wanted you to dress up too.

You hadn’t wanted to, but it was hard to say no when you’re notoriously timid and nervous boyfriend was so willing to do it. So you’d said yes, and he’d happily made a costume for you too.

Which meant that you spend the next hour getting ready and carefully applying makeup to match the character he’d chosen. But you have to admit, it’s completely worth it as you both stand in front of the full length mirror that hangs on the back of the bathroom door and you get to see the blindingly white smile of Hoseok’s, the heart shape taking over while his eyes narrowed into crescents of pure happiness.

God, you were so whipped for this guy.

He’d chosen to dress as Doctor Strange, meaning that he had a rather magnificent looking red cape over his blue outfit and an intricate looking chain around his neck. You weren’t familiar with the comics, but you’d seen the film and thought he looked pretty damn good either way.

Benedict Cumberbatch, eat your heart out.

And he also looked rather dashing with the white streaking through the sides of his hair, the top gelled back off his forehead. He’d had to forego the whole moustache business, but still. Hoseok made a rather enchanting Steven Strange.

Given the short time frame and the amount of time he’d spent on his own, and boy was it a surprise discovering that he could sew and all that, your own costume was much simpler. The Scarlet Witch from the film universe, made easier as all it had truly required was buying matching clothing. He’d made mutterings that the purists wouldn’t like it, but you didn’t understand what he was on about honestly.

It just made him happy to have you dress up with him, so you did it.

You thought it looked nice though, and the red leather jacket was pretty enough that you were pretty positive that you were going to wear it after the convention. It was easily recognisable who you both were thankfully and you were just content that he was.

The next hour is spent just getting into the convention centre itself, waiting in the queue before finally being let loose in the cavernous halls. You’ve never been to one before, and you can’t help but look around in admiration at the sheer scale of everything.

The main floor is split into booths, with each one being occupied by a different company or series. Some are purely sales booths, hawking their posters and figurines to the legions of equally geeky people walking around while other booths are gargantuan monoliths to the game, film or television series they’re promoting.

They’re full on with a complete immersion of the senses with your eyes and ears being bombarded with lights and music, almost to the point of it all being a little overwhelming.

You see a full scale police car advertising some zombie horror game along with an incredible display of cool models at the Marvel stand, the very sight of it making Hoseok practically squeal with excitement. In fact, you seem to spend a lot of time taking photographs of him stood in front of a lot of the stuff while he smiles and poses brightly.

It’s cute, and his sheer enthusiasm for the whole event is infectious. 

“Come on, t-take a picture with me! We have to! It’s Thor’s hammer and Cap’s shield!” Hoseok says eagerly, gesturing to you before leaning forward and taking your hand. Your cheeks heat slightly at the sight of everyone waiting for you both to finish so they too can have a turn before you lift up your phone and turn it into selfie mode.

The screen fills with both your faces and you angle it until you have the models in view as well; Hoseok’s smile so vivid that it’s all you can see when your thumb snaps the photo. Before you can even say anything, he’s taken your phone and is pleadingly asking the next person to take a proper photo.

You’re beyond fascinated that your introverted boyfriend has suddenly become this extroverted ball of animation. He didn’t even stutter when asking that and you just look up at him with wide eyes as the photo is taken. The phone is handed back to you by the person, who you only just note is wearing a Captain America outfit.

“You two are cute together.” He says, grinning before standing in place while Hoseok’s reaches for your hand once more, fingers twining together before he’s pulling you through the crowd.

It’s only when he stops in front of the DC booth that you get a chance to run your hand along his arm, getting his attention as he looks down with a raised brow. A bit of his hair has slipped out of position and is laid against his forehead roguishly, causing you to reach up and move it out of the way.

“What’s up? Are you okay? Do you need the restroom? Are you hungry? I think the food place is over th-” You stop him with a hand to his chest, letting it rest there against the smooth clothing before your fingers play with the chains of his necklace idly.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this happy. Or confident.” He pauses for a moment, lips pursing before they turn up in a bashful smile, his cheeks turning a soft golden pink as he looks down at your interlinked hands.

“I love these things. It’s...everything I love in one place. I’m too excited to be shy. Besides, everyone here is like me. Nerdy, and I think a lot of them want to pretend to be someone else too. And I get to share it all with you.” Hoseok looks around wistfully, biting his lip and you look around too.

There’s plenty of other people who are dressed up as their favourite characters, being stopped by random people for photographs as they pose happily. You’d both been stopped plenty of times already, and you’d watched with wide eyed amazement as Hoseok of all people had posed with plenty of vigour and excitement every time.

This was the man that was often too shy to take photos properly  with youand yet you were pretty sure that you had more photos today on your phone of him than from the last 9 months of dating. He really had become another person when he’d put on that cosplay, and you enjoyed his bout of self-confidence.

“That’s good, I’m glad that you’re happy and enjoying it. We’ll have to do this again then. Only you can have more time for your outfit.” Hoseok’s eyes brighten, the harsh lighting of the centre making them almost look like they sparkle as his smile spreads once more. You’re half convinced that he’s never going to smile again after today because he’s done it so much.

“Really? You’d really come back? Or go to another? With me? And dress up?” Snorting, you lean into him and push him towards the DC booth where a giant Batmobile is set up. Despite his avid arguments, you know that he secretly loves everything DC just as much Marvel.

“Yes, I’ll go with you again. This is nice, it’s like I’m seeing an unfiltered you. You cranked up to eleven. The you that I know and love but in public. And next time, I want to be Batgirl and you can be my Batman.” He looks dubious at that for a moment, eyes narrowing as you wait in line for the new photo op.

“I dunno...I don’t think I’d suit a Batman. I’m not...buff. Nor am I all,” He proceeds to make some unintelligible noises that are a few octaves below his normal voice, causing you to laugh. “No...I can be...ooh, Nightwing. He has a cool suit.”

“Sure babe, you can be whoever you want. As long as you keep smiling at me like that and looking this happy, I don’t care.” Hoseok looks at you for a moment, eyes scanning you over before he smiles big and presses his lips to your forehead firmly.

“I love you. Have I told you that today?” You smile and shake your head almost childishly, enjoying the way he looks at you so purely. Once you go home, you have no doubt that he’ll revert back to himself but for now, you just want to enjoy this outgoing Hoseok in his element.

“Well I do. I love you, and thank you.” His voice starts off strong before tailing off, cheeks reddening while his eyes lose their confidence as you stare at him firmly. There he is; your Jung Hoseok is still there. Just hidden for a little while.

That’s fine, you think to yourself as you tell him you love him too and wrap your arms around his waist, as long as you’re happy.

[space-blue]

The Dreamcaster

Bit of a filthy love letter to Inception.

I saw the trap the moment I stepped into the parlour.

The goons stood out like warts on a Courtesan's smooth backside. Such glaring display was surely bait, inviting nervous people to lose their cool and turn around.

I walked past with the carefree gait and flowing robes of a rich patron. I didn't let my gaze linger on them, the man I played tonight would be too righteous to care. I reached the counter and asked to join the public session, two hours worth of Dream. I gave my fake name and ID, paid in cash. The men didn't react to me but that guaranteed nothing, so I started a mental list of potential enemies. I knew of five serious ones, six, if counting personal vendettas. I reviewed grudges in order of threat and seriousness as the young hostess showed the way to a lounge-room.

I wondered if it could be Hamsworth keeping tabs on me. I was months behind the man's deadline. I love deadlines, especially the noise they make as they fly by.

The goons could be some of my target's henchmen, left in the lobby while their master drooled in some drug infused paradise, but that would be an unexplainable change of attitude. After all, my target kept his Dream addiction so secret that he always moved alone and disguised himself a lot more than I ever care to and I'm the outlaw.

I am a Dreamcaster. One plagued with a busy body and mind.

I could never settle for the easy life of a parlour, making up worlds for anxious patrons to play in, managing them down rosy plots to ludicrous, fulfilling ends that would leave sweet submemories to mend their broken souls. Humdrum, wretched work! I strive on challenges. I cast like no one else: I can fake true life, give a taste to sounds, I can imagine colours that don't exist. I can take a Dreamer by the hand and have him walk me through his mind-palace with pride and honour. Which is, incidentally, one of the many aspects that make me a criminal, and the very task I was paid to execute tonight.

The hostess opened the door of a small, cushioned room. She smiled as she handed me a tray with needles, plastic straps and a little piece of disinfecting gauze. She left to fetch a vial of this session's Dream. No prattle, no explanations. No need for them: my arms were already out of my sleeves, both covered with the black tattoos that ran along the veins of professionals and junkies alike.

I wasn't done disinfecting myself when the door opened again.

'That was fast.'

The laugh that answered was manly. I didn't make it to my feet before other manly things crashed against me and pined me to the cushions. Four men loomed above, three holding me and one flicking at the glass of a syringe with a smile, all strangers. They had the rough faces of long-time mercenaries.

'I can inject myself, thanks,' I said, dripping sarcasm and not quite breaking character yet.

The fourth man laughed again and bent down to where his colleague held my right arm in a lock.

'I very much doubt you would.'

Then I saw the syringe properly. Its long needle dripped black. My whole body broke in a sweat.

'Oh no, no, no, you can't! Fuck, mate, you can't! Not Nightmare! Why?!'

The man plunged the needle in the dark maze of my tattooed veins. I shrieked, giving it all I had while the black sludge sank into me.

'You've been a bad man Mr Kureno,' the man said.

'Well, what the fuck does that make you mate?!'

'I'm only a delivery man. You should be grateful, now you'll be sleeping too tight to feel the trip.'

'To where? To whom?'

Darkness choked my thoughts before he could answer.

I started awake, panting, sweat plastering my hair to my skull. I was home, sitting in my bed, jumped halfway out of my kimono, sheets rumpled around my legs. Nightmares of thugs putting me under Nightmare? Next level shit. Probably a stray natural dream.

'Kure?'

I perked up. It was my mother calling me.

'Kureno?'

I froze. Yes. It was my mother. My ten-years-dead mother, coming up the stairs of a house I had burned down myself the day she'd died.

I looked at the crook of my arm and saw some gauze covering the vein the villains had pricked in that nightmare. I reached for it and started to pull. The skin came out with the gauze, flesh sloughing off my arm.

A false awakening! These men had really put me under to take me somewhere! In a second I was on my feet, dread pushing my stomach up my throat. I reached inwards, using the mental cues to access old memories.

I was trained in Nightmare, more than most too, but that meant nothing. With Nightmare, you had the stuff five times in your life and you were a veteran! I have thousands of hours of work on Dream, my brain grew on the drug, developed my reflexes for it. Nightmare stimulates different networks, it warps your subconscious perceptions, reverses the laws of the whole game. It would play my own habits against me.

I squatted, gathering myself for the push that ought to get me flying. Instead the air turned to thick jelly against my body, gravity pressing me to the floor.

Typical Nightmare dynamics.

'Kureno?'

My mother opened the door. She looked at me with empty eye-sockets, her twisted mouth pulled taunt against white jaw bones.

'What is it child,' she asked, reaching for my face, 'why won't you come down?'

I made to step back, my feet dragging, her hand just as slowly brushing past me, a battle in slow-motion.

'You're dead you know?' I said to my mother's dried, charred face. 'I burnt the house to the ground with you in it. That's why you're here. No matter how right it was to do, it's still the stuff of nightmare, these memories.'

With some effort I cleared my mind to trigger a new iteration. The nightmare reset itself, and as my old house and dead mother disappeared, I fell.

I tore through the air, an upside down townscape blurring in my sight. The sensation of falling was so vivid I cried in panic. None of my probes shaped the world as they should. I was in true free fall.

'Hey!'

I twisted around to find a man falling with me. Tall, lanky, with short, jet black hair over green eyes, my spitting image without any tattoos: my twin brother, Koharu. His aura however did not match his body. It was, and wasn't my brother. Such misplacement is common in natural dreams, and it felt aweful.

'Kureno,' my brother's image called, coming down on a level with me, 'grab my hand!'

'Fuck off.'

'Kureno, you'll die if you don't!'

I flipped over, feet down to the abyss of the sky, arms catching the wind, the crazy shapes of the world swirling out of reach.

'It's a Nightmare. Dying would just start a new iteration!'

'The ground is coming up,' he yelled, horror in his voice. It was. Somehow the sky had become a solid thing. Koharu caught my loose kimono, and I grabbed for his hand to pull him close.

It broke.

Shattered at the wrist like a twig, a flawed porcelain handled too rough. We stared at each other, stupefied, swallowed by the certainty of our death.

Reality hit me like a ton of brick.

I was on all fours, retching. Waking isn't like in movies, when you're never sure if you aren't still dreaming. Puking your guts out while awake never feels dreamy enough for such doubts. Koharu's hand was on my back, holding me while I gathered my wits. We were in a corner of his lab. I remembered now, my twin injecting me with his latest batch of so-called "innovation". We often work together. He's the smart one, I'm the artist.

'How much are you paying me to trial that black crap again?' I asked, wiping my face with a trembling hand.

'We'll discuss a raise once you've spat your analyses. Out with it, I want it fresh!'

'First iteration was incredible convincing. Instinctual theme, solid narrative structure, I was working a Tour-type Dreamcast. Paranoia heavy, but lowered wariness.' I detailed the attack, the subsequent false awakening, the free-fall, reviewed my feelings and sensations. 'If I hadn't woken up in our old house I might not have realised I was on Nightmare at all. Mother was there.'

We exchanged glassy looks.

'I could reset the iteration,' I went on, 'but other commands were completely ineffective. Whatever you're planning to do with this new variant, it will throw off anyone, trained or not.'

'Kureno,' he said, smirking at me with my very own favourite grin, 'this new Nightmare will throw off the whole world.'

~~ March 2016 – Nightmares

[an-aura-about-you]

Sweet Dreams

So yeah, why wasn’t Autor there during the conversation between Logos and Fakir from some time ago?

Autor raps his knuckles against the door, a mere formality at this point with him and Erina but one he can’t stop himself from doing once he’s started. After all, a degree of politeness when visiting his girlfriend unannounced will likely be appreciated, almost as much as the chocolate covered ants he managed to find for her. The knock on the door and the treat he’s brought should outweigh coming over without notice when he really has no business coming over at all.

His business should be back at home with his father and Fakir. But he shoves that away, actively avoiding the destiny that’s already told him thanks but no thanks, we’ve already filled the position. There’s too much that’s not his, and he’s better off leaving it behind. But now that he has a secret keeper in Erina, he can tell her in brief why he’s here and be done with it for the night. Anything else would just be treading old ground, and he can already imagine Erina rightfully dismissing such redundancy. He can take his turn to check after her for a change, or if she isn’t in such a mood they could at least find some distraction together.

What he finds when the door opens, however, is even less expected than he is.

“The boa is fetching, but I don’t know if it goes with the glasses,” he says, wiggling his fingers under his nose for emphasis.

“Hello to you, too,” Erina greets, fixing the Groucho glasses so the fake nose sits better over her real one and adjusting the boa sitting over her surprisingly adorable ant print pajamas. “I’m afraid I’m in the middle of a session, but we should be able to fit you in ri- are those chocolate covered ants?!”

“Well, yes, actually,” Autor answers just as she takes hold of the bag and his hand.

She whips the glasses off and goes, “I’m giving you extra kisses for that,” punctuating it with a quick peck on the lips.

“Erina, if you’re gonna spend your whole turn at the door, give someone else the glasses!” a voice Autor can’t entirely place calls from inside.

Erina turns back to call in return, “I’m still taking my turn! Autor’s come over, so he can be next.”

Before Autor can ask exactly what he’s going to be next in and why it requires wearing Groucho glasses, another voice he recognizes as Blanchefleur cuts in with, “That’s fine, but he can’t stay all night, Erinachen.”

Autor takes in everything going on piece by piece as Erina escorts him in, though it’s still not coming together. Realization bides its time, sitting in wait with the girls gathered around the sofa in the living room. Pique and Lilie face each other on the floor, toying around with some makeup and glass jewelry but otherwise clad in pajamas just like Erina. Duck lies on the sofa itself flipping through a purple paperback book, but she sits up with a smile when she spots Autor.

“Hi, Autor!” Duck cheerily greets. “Is Erina gonna tell you what your dreams mean, too?”

Before he can answer, Erina puts the Groucho glasses back on and says, “You can interpret Autor’s dreams when I’m done with you, Duck. Then anyone who wants to go again can be next.”

“Me!” Pique calls dibs. “I need something besides Lilie telling me all my dreams are omens of death.”

“It’s not so bad!” Lilie insists. “Watching you struggle helplessly against your dark fate is so encouraging!”

Erina points to Lilie with her free hand and asks the other girls, “Is she always like this?”

“Even worse,” Pique and Duck answer.

“Liars!” Lilie quickly rebuts.

Erina shrugs and finally takes the chocolate covered ants out of Autor’s hand, freeing him from her grasp so he can take a seat. “Anyway, I’m sorry about our interruption, Duck,” she says, making herself at home on a nearby stool and taking the purple book out of Duck’s hands. “So, where were we?”

“Did I tell you about the part when Fakir said he was gonna write a book about everything that happened and asked me to go to the book store with him?” Duck asks, reclining on the sofa once more. “But when we got there, there was a puppet sitting behind the desk. And Mr. Felidae was there, but he was a giant cat again, and he showed me a bunch of pictures of his kids while Fakir went to talk to the puppet.”

“Well, I don’t even need the book for this one,” Erina says, passing the dream dictionary over to Autor. “Clearly, this dream is about you considering a future with Fakir.”

“What?! Let me see that,” Duck goes, sitting up again and reaching for the dream dictionary.

But Autor pulls the book away, already burying his nose in it. “I can give you a second opinion,” he offers, catching on and jumping into the game. “But frankly, I think my colleague is right in this matter.”

Erina plucks the book out of his hands and says, “Ah-ah-ah, if you’re going to be giving a professional opinion, you have to look the part.” She takes off the Groucho glasses and holds them up to slide on his nose only to realize they won’t fit over his regular glasses. “Oh... We’ll have to do something about this.”

“Wait, what do we have to do?” Autor asks, taking the book back only for Duck to snatch it. “I look professional enough, thank you.”

“Lilie, can you take over Duck’s session while I help Autor look the part?” Erina asks, passing her the Groucho glasses.

But before Lilie could take them, Pique snatches them first and goes, “Don’t worry, Duck, I’ll save you. Especially since I think we need to talk about you having a future with Fakir.”

“Ooo, this is even better than I anticipated!” Lilie gushes, following close behind Pique for what she hopes to be a battle.

Autor lets Erina lead him away and sit him down where Pique and Lilie were before. He opens his mouth to ask what exactly she’s going to do, but then she picks up an eyebrow pencil.

Never mind, he’s going to ask anyway.

“Okay, exactly what are you going to do to me?”

“Well, if you can’t wear the mustache, we’ll have to give you your own,” she answers, playfully wiggling the pencil. “Besides, I’m kind of curious to see what you’d look like with one. So what do you say?”

Autor considers this before shrugging and going, “Do you take requests?”

“Within reason.”

“Snidely Whiplash?”

Erina bows her head laughing before gently taking his chin in her hand and getting to work with the pencil.

“-and while I usually don’t like disagreeing with my colleagues, I don’t think these are an omen of actual death,” Autor tells Pique, stroking his chin in imitation of stroking the goatee Erina drew on him. “Rather, this is indicative of letting go of something you’ve been holding for too long. There are things that aren’t meant to last forever.”

“I didn’t think of it that way,” Pique admits. “That...actually sounds like good advice.”

Autor shrugs nonchalantly and pretends to fiddle with his mustache. “Yes, well, I do that.” He checks his watch and adds, “Oh, look at the time. I’m afraid your hour’s up. Will you be paying in cash today?”

Pique sits up and gives Autor a handful of Monopoly money. “Same time next week?”

“My secretary can pencil you in,” he replies, licking his thumb and counting through the play currency. Satisfied, he folds the bills and puts them in his shirt’s breast pocket.

Pique swings her legs over the side of the sofa, frowning in contemplation. “Wait, were we supposed to pick secretaries for our turns?”

Autor shrugs. “I’m just going with what sounds like it fits.”

The two take a moment to look at the other three to see if anyone’s available for such a role. As it is, Erina and Duck managed to keep Lilie occupied by convincing her to help put Duck’s incredibly long hair in a set of curlers.

“Hey, I think we’re done with the dream doctor game,” Duck comments, tilting her head back a little to look at Erina and Lilie.

Erina mumbles a something of acceptance through the bobby pins held in her lips. She then eyes Autor and tips her head forward in indication. Autor follows her look but doesn’t even say a word, merely nods and goes to the kitchen.

As soon as he’s out of the room, Pique asks, “How did you do that?”

Erina frowns for a moment before shrugging it off, unsure how to actually explain something she didn’t even think about until Pique asked.

Autor returns moments later, laughter in his wake, and reports, “Your father says dinner’s ready and that the mustache isn’t doing me any favors.”

Erina takes the rest of the bobby pins out of her mouth, shakes her head, and says, “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about, liebling. You look very dashing.”

Again, he doesn’t say anything, but he heads back to help set up dinner with a small, content smile he didn’t have before.

Autor yawns against the back of his hand, the air of drowsiness that’s fogged the room taking its toll on him. Duck, Pique, and Lilie have all nodded off in a heap on the sofa, leaving him and Erina the only ones in the party still awake to watch what’s left of The Wizard of Oz while cozily sharing the matching loveseat. He lost track of when Erina actually curled up against him or when he reciprocated by putting his arm around her, though it must have been some time after Erina loosely braided her hair for the night. Not that the braid’s stopped him from playing with her hair, his fingers idly flicking through the tuft at the very end. Erina catches his yawn, but she tries to hide it.

“I should probably go,” Autor whispers, but not without some reluctance.

Erina quietly hums before whispering back, “Let’s wait until my parents say something. Besides, we really should finish the movie.”

“It would be a shame not to finish it,” he says.

She wraps her arms around his middle and yawns again. “Thanks for crashing my sleepover. You should do that more often.”

He manages to contain his laugh before saying, “I didn’t mean to. Father’s talking to Fakir at home, and it just felt...”

“Oh,” Erina sighs in understanding. “And you needed someone to talk to?”

“No, or at least not about that. I came over thinking I’d rather listen to you talk than go over the same stuff we’ve discussed before.”

“We can still do that if you want,” she says. “Did I tell you I started looking at ballet companies I’m thinking about joining once I finish school?”

“Is it already time to start that? Or are you starting early?”

She shrugs, her shoulders still under his arm, and goes, “A little early, I guess. But that doesn’t hurt. Time to recover if I make a wrong choice.”

“Good thinking,” he agrees, toying with the end of her braid once again. “I guess I don’t know what I’m going to do. Keep playing the piano for now, probably.”

“It’s not a bad idea. Will you help me practice for my auditions?”

“Of course.” And then, because he can’t help but wonder, “Any particular reason you braided your hair, by the way?”

Erina pulls her braid out of his grasp and says, “I always braid my hair for bed. It’s so long that it gets in my face if I don’t.”

Autor considers this, his nose itchily twitching at the thought, and nods in acceptance. Once that’s passed, he quietly says, “I like girls who braid their hair for bed.”

Erina turns her head a bit to side-eye him from her spot snuggled against his chest. “What?”

He flushes and a nervous stammer invites itself in while he gets out,“R-remember when you asked me if I like girls with long hair or short hair? I didn’t have an answer. So th-that’s my answer now.”

“Oh,” she answers, having forgotten about it until Autor brought it up again and her own cheeks growing warm.

“So, what companies were you thinking about?” Autor asks, attempting to jump back on track. “Local work? Or will you be touring?”

“I mean, I guess I could try one type then the other,” Erina says. “Stay with what I like.”

Autor considers this with a small nod. “Keep in touch if you tour. And come back here sometimes.”

“Wouldn’t you rather I stay?” she asks.

“Of course, but I know performers have to tour sometimes,” he says. “I did grow up with Father going on tour. Besides, if I don’t even know what I want to do, I don’t know if I’ll stay in Goldkrone myself.”

“Good point,” Erina agrees, squeezing him just a little bit tighter. “I guess we’ll just have to see how things work out.”

He hums in agreement, tucking a bit of hair behind her ear. It’s a very soft, peaceful moment, threatening him with sleep. When did he become so susceptible, so weak when he used to go multiple nights without sleep willingly? The difference occurs to him as he thinks of the last time he did stay up all night and how Erina had been present. This time, they aren’t working. No need to sharpen the mind for what’s to come ahead, nothing to do but enjoy this quiet envelope of existence where, for all points that matter, he and Erina are the only people in the room, in Goldkrone, in the world of night.

At least until Heinrich taps him on the shoulder and clears his throat.

Erina untangles herself from Autor’s embrace and goes, “I’ll walk Autor to the door, Father.”

“Okay, but don’t be too long,” he agrees as the two get up from the loveseat.

Respectful good nights said to Heinrich and Blanchefleur, Erina steps outside with Autor and closes the door behind them. That done, she drapes her arms on his shoulders and pulls him in for another hug.

Autor returns the hug without a thought, and suddenly they’re alone again.

“Come by tomorrow when the girls have gone home?” she asks. “I’ll call you.”

“Sure,” he agrees.

He traces his fingers along her jaw, smiling a little at how it seems to match Erina closing her eyes. He leans in, and the kiss is like breathing. Not the urgent gasp for air after breaking the surface of the water but the effortless gentle breath that comes just as softly as it goes.

“Good night, Erina,” he murmurs, and somehow the words don’t break a thing.

Erina smiles at him like the moon through the clouds. “Good night, Autor,” she says, tracing his cheek for a moment before adding, “And don’t forget to wash up.”

Logos and Fakir are at the door just as Autor shows up. Of the three, it’s clear who had the best night. Fakir takes one look at Autor and decides not for the first time that keeping his mouth shut is the better option. A brief nod and the other boy is on his way home.

Logos waves his hand in front of his face for a moment and asks, “Where did you get the smudged mustache? And the Monopoly money?”

“I still have that?” Autor asks in return, patting down the pocket and finding it’s still stuffed full of funny money. “I’ll bring that back to Erina’s tomorrow.”

“Usually when Monopoly gets out of hand, it goes a bit differently,” Logos says. “But at least your relationship with Erinachen doesn’t seem to be in tatters.”

“Quite the contrary: she called me liebling,” he replies, counting the Monopoly money once more for fun. “And she said I look dashing.”

“Okay, now I know you didn’t play Monopoly, not if she meant that,” Logos comments as he ushers Autor inside.

Autor shrugs and goes, “All I did was crash her slumber party.”

Logos makes an, “Ohhhhh,” of understanding as the two head in for the night.

[fuse2dx]

January ‘20

I felt like trying this for a bit again. 

Untitled Goose Game

Where Journey and its ilk blew up the idea of a short, single-visit game, Untitled Goose Game feels closer to the next evolution of this ultra-focused style of design. It’s a perfect elevator pitch of a game - surmised exactingly in its abstract, and not even needing to commit to a ‘proper’ title… and yet more immediate and relatable than countless other games. Your aims are clear and simple, and a compact suite of commands elicits a range of responses from its environments and characters to help you achieve them. How one begets the other is just logical enough to work for its two hour duration, but does suggest it’s unlikely to have had scope to go much beyond this without repetitive tedium, or becoming bewilderingly obtuse. That’s not to say that it’s challenges are totally intuitive, or even that it’s free of moments where janky controls entangle you - but again, you’ll easily endure through it given how briefly you’re expected to stay. The primal appeal of being a horrible goose is easy to be ensnared by, and is neither overdone nor worn thin, once again thanks to the length of it. Its elegance and charm complements the simplicity of it all wonderfully, and though not revolutionary, or pushing any particular aspect of the medium to new highs, the quirk, laughs and originality of it is the type of bottled lightning that is unlikely to be replicated any time soon. Honk. 

Wattam

It’s a game by Keita Takahashi. You can assume plenty; warmth, charm, whimsy, colour, humour - and you’d be right. Divorced of a big studio and the legion of other talent that comes with it, his solo work continues to be mechanically light and missing a few layers of polish, yet is simultaneously far more experimental and groundbreakingly humane than most anything you could care to mention. Trying to explain in regular video game terms what you do is somewhat redundant, but to at least give it a shot; you play a large green square - The Mayor - who’s initially alone, but slowly coerces its population back, repopulating the world through various interactions within it. 

I’ll be straight with you: I’ve had to rewrite this passage, as some of the first sessions I spent with this drove me up the wall and lead to a less-than-favourable commentary. Fully aware that talking predominantly about how it plays was “doing it wrong”, I nevertheless took to highlight how I found the camera frustrating, the characters’ erratic and independent movement to be testing, and the rapid-fire sampling of children’s cries laid over the jazzy background music to be cacophonous and anxiety-provoking rather than joyous. That I persevered and made it through the rest of the game is not to say I don’t still harbour some negativity towards it, but the last portion of the game did do a far better job of bringing me around to its charms than those earlier moments where I felt a bit too much like I was wrestling with it. I knew I wanted to see it all and to love it; the idea of being on the outside of something so light being quite so glum, but it didn’t come quite as easily as I was expecting. Don’t be too put off, but perhaps don’t also expect it to be completely painless either.

Neo Cab

Neo Cab’s setting shines a miserably relatable light on a dystopian city and the people living within it. There’s an increasingly downtrodden population of gig economy workers, a police state whose corporate favouritism is not remotely subtle, and a growing number of people whose sentiment against this climate is rallying them together, and turning to action. There is not a lot of digging required to expose the game’s politics, or to join the dots to whom it really wishes were held to justice.

Normally when talking about visual novels, or even just narratively-focused ones, I tend to find myself on the back foot, expecting folks to turn off, and having to find ways to walk it back to more traditional game tropes. Here, I was actually quite pleased with how well Neo Cab defies any lack of interaction - to the point where I’d actually be pretty comfortable recommending this to near anyone. A big component of this is set up early on; a wearable device is forced upon your character that visibly broadcasts her current mood for all to see. As well as mood limiting what you’re willing to say (crucially though, not stopping you from contemplating these options), it’s also un-conveniently right there on her wrist for folks to see when they’ve hit a nerve. As a cab driver by trade, branching dialogue options you need to assess are incredibly frequent - and give your cues are often assuming, intrusive, or just plain rude - your management of them becomes all the more immediate and crucial. Ride quality influences your rating as a driver as well as your income, which in turn impacts which rides you can take, who you can meet, and who you can rely on in future. Sometimes your choices are simple, whereas other passengers may be more obtuse, or inadvertently land you in a quandary more moral in nature. It’s not a long game, and while I naturally don’t want to say too much, it does a good job of keeping the focus grounded on its key characters, who really make it all tick over nicely. I thought Neo Cab was pretty great - it’s got a simple but stylish look to it, and gives you just enough to think about.

  Demon’s Tilt

Pinball tables may not have changed much in the layman’s eyes over the years, but video game versions certainly have. In paying quite unsubtle homage to Naxat’s series of tables that blessed a number of 16-bit systems, the passage of near three decades has given Demon’s Tilt plenty of space to grow into. Larger, higher resolution screens gives us bigger play spaces and more detailed imagery, while increased technical grunt lends itself to a seemingly limitless crescendo of frenetic, often incomprehensible action. I mean, why not throw a little bullet hell into the mix? Goodness grief. 

Given my particular fondness for Devil’s Crash, which to Demon’s Tilt is the clearest, most singular inspiration, I was naturally drawn to this. I’d played a little before in early access, but a more complete Switch version was appealing enough to revisit it. I was already safe in the knowledge that it’d managed to build upon and flatter my favourite pinball game without reducing itself to an imitation, but the option of portable play (with a FlipGrip, even) was particularly exciting. As it happens, trying to condense so much to a small screen wasn’t quite such the modern convenience I’d hoped - it’s a neat showcase, but quite impractical to actually play with. Not thrusting yourself within an inch of the screen and having to squint may give a smidgen more a fighting chance, but a bigger display also allows you to appreciate the slick blend of neon effects spewing themselves over the striking gothic imagery. The music contributes yet more welcome intensity to things, and though I’ve begrudged a few near misses and unfortunate bounces, in calm retrospect it’s clear the this is far more a reflection of my skill rather than any lack in ball physics. For those who are practised in ways I am not, the table itself has plenty of opportunity to flex your muscle, but even though my games aren’t the feats of endurance I’d wish for, I’m still coming away each time clamouring to go straight back in. 

198X

I missed this game’s crowdfunding attempts, but after seeing its trailer - a moody and romanticised nod to all things 80s arcade culture - it was very clear this was making a direct appeal to my sensibilities. It’s a coming of age story about a bored suburban teen, whose discovery of the local arcade ‘changes everything’. Now, I love arcades far more than most, but even I found the story to be over-egged. The Kid’s monologuing through the game’s cut-scenes jumps at such breakneck speed that it genuinely made me feel uncomfortable about their state of mind. Pre-arcade, all is miserly and monotone, whereas the escapism they indulge in after this discovery is worryingly unhinged. The pixel art propping them up may be quite tasty, but I think most people will find the story being pushed to be a touch cringeworthy. 

The game that’s book-ended by these scenes are actually a series of mini-games, each clearly inspired by a particular 80s title. In short clips and stills, you could be fooled into thinking these are not just dutifully upgraded, but maybe even improved homages to the given classics. Visually, yes, there is some argument to be made here as there is some terrific pixel artistry being conducted here, but as there’s only about 15 minutes of each to play, it’s no surprise that some corners have had to be cut. Generally speaking, the balance  of each isn’t quite so nuanced, and unsurprisingly this leans towards them being easier than you’d expect, but there’s specific shortcomings in each too. For example: definitely-not-Final Fight has some shocking collision detection, and of particular disappointment for myself, definitely-not-Outrun has but one gear, and hardly any impression of speed. While not fatal flaws, my point is simply that you’d not choose to play these over the original games they intend to pay their respects to. A second part being teased at the shortly-reached end is likely a downer for those expecting value, but I think it’s two-hour runtime is probably just about right considering it’s best viewed as a novelty. 

[nerdarchy-blog]

Your stalwart old lady grognard finished her first fifth edition Dungeons & Dragons campaign last night! And my character survived!

First, a little backstory. A little more than a year ago, I read about Nerdarchy on Facebook and watched some of their videos. I learned they were right across the river in New Jersey! At the time, I hadn’t played (as a player) a D&D game in decades, and I’d never played 5E D&D. However, the popularity (it seemed everyone was playing it) and my desire to play D&D again caused me to reach out to the Nerdarchy guys. But how to make myself stand out from the thousands of emails, comments and fan mail they received each day? Hmmm. I know! I’ll rattle off my gaming resume! (TSR, GW, etc.) And they responded!

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After some initial texts and such I was invited to a game forming that would be played once a month. I’d never met any of these people, and for all I knew Nerdarchist Ted (who was hosting) was actually a serial killer who had chained Nerdarchist Dave in his basement to make the videos. (Is Nerdarchist Dave blinking “T-O-R-T-U-R-E” in Morse code in that video?) In any case, I drove from the Philly ‘burbs to meet the guys and sit in on a game in an edition that was far different than the one I knew. Damn millennials. Get off my lawn.

Fortunately, the other players as well as Ted (henceforth DM) were very patient with me as I fumbled through character creation, etc., and humored me when I insisted in *gasp!* actually rolling my character stats instead of taking the standard frame thing. *clutches pearls!* The rest of the group looked on bemused as I rolled the 4d6 method from ages past, with the condition that I get one shot at this and must accept the character as rolled…

7 11 16 13 18 16 (not in that order)

Holy crab! Best character I’d ever rolled! I, of course, played it cool, extolling the virtues of the Old Ways while, inside, celebrating like crazy. As it stood, I had the best stats in the party. So of course I decided to play…

A cleric.

I was going to play a human cleric (WTF is a “warforged” anyway?) but Dave suggested an aasimar. A what??? That’s a human with divine blood who gets really powerful boosts and stuff to start, and progressively gets more powerful. Hmm… cleric with angel, I mean “celestial” blood? I could work that. I’d heard 5E D&D had wildly overpowered characters but… wow. The DM allowed us use of D&D Beyond, which was an immense help to this novice. I found a suitable picture online that fit the character description.

So was born unto the table, Emerald of the Light. She was a Light Domain cleric (duh) as this fit the idea I had for her. She was going to be young, drop dead gorgeous and very good at ministering to the flock and converting others to the Light. The DM even allowed me to design her deity, whom I named Selah, commonly the known as “the Light.” I designed the priesthood, the paladins (the Service of the Light,) the temples, relics, etc. In addition, I designed a beggar deity in the pantheon: NohWhey.

The rest of the group were a motley crew (cue ’80s music) and we spent the first session deciding on our group backstory (we started at 3rd level), and between the DM’s two campaign ideas. We even were able to name the big bad — a generic wizard name from my old campaigns: Zoltar. Our group named itself the Seven Who Stayed (as we were the only seven desperate enough for a job to stay for that first quest, which was to rescue a family from a cult of goblins who worshiped an owlbear. It got far more complicated, but that’s the basics). It bears mentioning I was the only female character, and the only woman at the table.

In March 2019 we began the campaign. Over time we fought giant stirges, settled a town dispute without bloodshed (thanks to my… Charisma and Wisdom) encountered Ipskig Fizzletop, genasi, an invincible undead dwarf, a booger flying across the table and landing on my character sheet (really!), various monsters made from pieces of multiple beasts (that was Zoltar’s bag — making combination monsters that steadily became more Lovecraftian and bizarre) including a tentacled two headed T-Rex, got gold teeth for a shriveled goblin shrunken head, discussed scaly lizard nutsacks, traveled through multiple planes and, in the end, saved the city-state. During that time, Emerald healed the party while dispensing Holy Justice. Oh, and she never died.  Her stats at the end?

7 STR, 11 INT, 16 CON, 13 INT, 20 WIS, 18 CHA

The players (I’m not naming them as I don’t have permission) were wonderful roleplayers, much to my character’s chagrin. They did so many frustratingly stupid things that were so in character I was fascinated. Emerald was often the straight woman to their jokes. I don’t think we had a true party leader but the group often did what I suggested. Not always. Sometimes.

Okay, I loved the campaign itself. Now… I’m removing my emotion hat and am now looking at the system objectively from the point of view of a person who’s been playing D&D for over 40 years.

Pass the Geritol.

I’d heard from many Players of Experience that the new edition was very simplified, didn’t resemble the original game in most ways and had overpowered characters.

They are correct. Aside from the monsters and the class names, there really isn’t much of the original game left. Character generation is oversimplified to the point of being generic, as are character hit points and experience (your characters gain a level every two sessions — no experience points). Also, occasionally when levelling, a player could add two points to an ability score (or a feat). (Max: 20.)

Math has been completely eliminated from the game. The other players were again shocked I always insisted on rolling my hit points when we leveled instead of taking the average. Usually it worked out in my favor (praise the Light!) but not always. In the end, Emerald’s hit points were 10 points higher than if I’d taken the average (plus Constitution bonus).

Okay, even with the generic stats the characters are far more powerful than back in the day. They start with feats, which give them incredible abilities. The races also have jaw dropping abilities to start as well. I can’t speak for the other classes but the cleric spells and abilities were also incredible. By the end my 10th level cleric was throwing fireballs (previously a wizard only spell) while flying over the battlefield with wings of light created by divine power, and had a 10% chance of calling for Divine Intervention once a week! And I was far from the strongest character in the party! (Best spellcaster though. Hee hee.)

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Zolar, the big bad of Nerdarchist Ted’s campaign

The terrible two-tentacled T-Rex

The DM compensated by throwing monsters (like the aforementioned T.T. T-Rex) that we really had no business defeating. Zoltar ended up as a lich with two beholder eye stalks (damn clever if you ask me, and yes, the DM converted the model!), which was immune to fire. Also to compensate, magic items were exceedingly rare for the players, but not for the monsters who, when defeated, often had their weapons vanish or such.

Combat with the large group sometimes dragged, as it will with a large group, but… I felt it lacked the flavor of previous editions. Weapons did damage, but were really interchangeable. Emerald’s mace may as well have been a broad sword. Or a wooden club. While slightly more complex, the old versions’ damage by weapon type and bonus/penalties vs. certain armors really added to the flavor of the game. Oh, and forced the player to *lightning and thunder crash* do math!

In the new edition’s favor is that with all the computer programs, companies churning out amazing play aids (like Nerdarchy’s Out of the Box Encounters) and YouTube videos helping people learn the game, as well as just videos of people… just …playing… zzzzzz… Oh, sorry… really helps.

D&D was definitely a niche thing back in the day: nerds and outcasts only, even during the heyday of the early ’80s. Now it’s chic and all the cool kids are playing it. Is this because it’s so streamlined? Probably. It plays like an online video game, which I’m sure helps with recruitment.

Older editions were more complex, required math and deductive reasoning (due to the books being poorly organized in the original edition — yes, I’m looking at you, first edition DM’s Guide!), but had an air of wonder. Everything was new then and as a player one felt like part of something special. I felt that way working for TSR in the ’90s, even though the company was becoming very corporate. Fifth edition is falling into the trap that second edition did — there’s so much material and rules out there that things are becoming convoluted and hard to follow, even with computer assistance.

Or maybe that’s just me. Maybe part of my memories of first and second editions are tinted with the golden light of memory and nostalgia — of old friends, great adventures played in unfinished basements or cramped cinder block dorm rooms.

I DMed a second edition campaign briefly last spring, which ended when one of the players (a Gen Z) said the game was boring, and two of the players went back to fifth edition gaming. The scenario wasn’t boring, she said (Keep on the Borderlands, if you’re curious) but the system was. I was deflated. And hurt. Took it personally.

I’m not here to piss in anyone’s corn flakes — if you enjoy fifth edition then play it! Enjoy the camaraderie, enjoy the settings and making the DM curse when your unexpected action completely derails their plans (that hasn’t changed in any edition!). I’ll play if offered a seat (which as a transgender woman is rare — but that’s another column for later) sure. But to DM?

My heart will always be in the early editions.

Get off my lawn! I would’ve gotten away with it if it weren’t for you meddling kids! *passes out Werther’s Original candies.*

Be well!

With her first 5E D&D campaign complete now that Nerdarchist Ted's game ended, a longtime player compares the experience to earlier editions of the game Your stalwart old lady grognard finished her first fifth edition Dungeons & Dragons campaign last night! And my character survived!

[healthylifepage]

10 WAYS TO BE A DUFUS AT THE GYM!

FitnessOnToast.com has always been a warm, friendly, inclusive place to share helpful, optimistic, focussed material. Well, NOT TODAY motherfos. This Gym Etiquette 101 post is motivated exclusively by burning rage and shall act as a form of cathartic therapy for me! I go to the gym on a regular basis, between 3 and 5 days per week. I consider the gym to be a shared space in which many people pay a fee to be allowed its use. However, my observation over 15+ years of gymming is that many people believe ‘once I’m a member, it’s my space’. They’re often disrespectful to the equipment, staff and other members, are messy and all too often, just really, really loud – just to name a few pet peeves. For me, I think of it as a privilege to use the gym. Yes, one pays a fee – sometimes a substantial one at that – but it’s not your property, or your private space. The better I look after the equipment, and the more respectful I am to other members, the more enjoyable and easier their time will be using the gym. In return, I’d expect the same consideration from others. So, without further ado here’s my TOP 10 of things that drive me up the wall every single time I go to the gym! Maybe you can relate to a few of them – alternatively, feel free to add your own irritations in the comments section below. I’d love to know if I’m the only one who feels this way.

1) PLEASE HAVE SOME SPATIAL AWARENESS

Yesterday, I was doing some deadlifts and an oblivious meat-head almost walked into me – thankfully my gym buddy stopped him just in time. This is incredibly dangerous; were this chap to have collided with me, I could’ve been seriously injured, as deadlifts can already render the body quite prone to injury – add in a push from an unexpected plane, and it could be game over for your back.

Faya’s considerate tip #1: Whilst it sounds obvious, try to be aware of the space around you. At times, the gym equipment layout is planned badly. For instance, I would personally never place the squat machine near a heavy tracking area where people are frequently running / walking behind you. The likelihood of someone accidentally walking into you is greater. However, space is limited, and compromises are made. People often walk around looking at their phones whilst playing music and aren’t aware of what’s going on.

2) PLEASE BE QUIET

Sounding like a cow in labour whilst squatting is NOT macho, sexy or endearing, and nobody ever found this a turn on. It’s ultimately unnecessary – at times humorous, given how absurdly preposterous it can sound – but mainly it’s just annoying beyond about the 3rd rep. I know that focussed exhalation and deep breathing can be important to maximise oxygen flow and power, and that’s obviously fine, but the level and variety of noises I hear in the gym is a truly ludicrous symphony of dying animal groans.

Faya’s considerate tip #2: Don’t imitate The Hulk when at the gym. Probably no one wants to hear your stupid noises.

3) BRO-HAVIOUR

Shouting out something moronic to your mates across the gym floor? Studies show you’re 100% definitely an idiot. I have to laugh, because this stuff happens all the time, and the laughter therapeutically dissolves my maniacal rage. Typically, it’s a group of guys.

‘No Bruv, I’m carb cycling. I’m on 50 grams innit’. ‘Listen, yeh, you gotta get them CLA’. ‘Yeh Bruv, I smashed out 300kgs – BIG leg day POW.’

Hmmmmm.

Faya’s considerate tip #3:If you’re about to misbrohave, stop yourself, and observe how literally nobody at the gym gives two hoots about how many grams you’re on – probably not even this ‘Bruv’ chap – who coincidentally, seems to be in all British gyms everywhere at the same time. Absolutely everyone just wants you to be quiet.

4) WHAT ARE YOU WEARING?!

Now this could be a post on its own… and of course people can wear whatever they want but here are a few points to consider if you haven’t already…

a) Crotch Sweat…

We all sweat, some more than others. In many ways, it’s to be encouraged in the gym. Just remember that certain colours and fabrics show sweat patches more than others.

Faya’s sweaty crotch tip #1 – I recommend avoiding greys and cottons if you tend to sweat a lot. No one wants to see a sweaty crotch whilst you do a stiff leg deadlift, and the likelihood is you don’t want to show it either.

b) See-through Pants

Faya’s visible crotch tip #1 This one mainly goes out to all women. Before purchasing any leggings, check in the mirror… if your pants are even mildly see-through, don’t buy them; it’s a waste of money because under the bright lights of the gym, with a little stretching, you might as well just walk around in your knickers instead and save yourself the £££. Perhaps I’m a prude, but unless I’m running along Miami Beach hoping to catch a tan, or in a Bikram class, whilst in rainy cold London, I don’t train in transparent hot pants and see through sports bra.

c) Men and tight pants…

I swear I could see absolutely every little millimeter of one gentleman’s modesty at the gym last week. The anatomical study of the human body fascinates me – I went to see Body Worlds the other day and it was mind blowing. However, at the gym I only want to see Swiss and medicine balls. Please guys, retain a little sense mystery!

Faya’s visible crotch tip #2 – If I were a gentleman, I would consider avoiding tight lycra leggings and opt for altogether looser shorts or joggers instead. Channel your inner ‘80s dude’ and go baggy.

5) ‘MY TRAINER FORGOT I WAS HERE’

Trainers on their phones whilst training a client – well, this isn’t gym etiquette per se, but I want to throw it in here anyway as it actually upsets me. To channel Mr T, I pity the fool. A client is willing to pay you good money, and you’re on your phone looking at photos of yourself from your last body building competition? This is what gives PTs a bad reputation. You should be looking at your client’s form, correcting their technique, inspiring them, and delivering them the specialism they’ll require to get stronger, fitter, healthier!

Faya’s considerate tip #4: Trainers gonna’ train.

6) CRASH-BANG-WALLOP

Breaking the equipment, and in particular, dropping the cable machine; MEGA ANNOYING. In fact, this is probably what annoys me the most. We all share a space, we all pay membership, yet there is a small group of people who ruin it for everyone else. The cable machine always breaks because some meat-head muppet insists on dropping the weight after every set, therein tearing the cable. This not only confirms the unfathomable nothingness between said people’s ears, but it means next time anyone goes to use the machine it’ll be broken for them too.

Aside from the obvious breakage point (bad!), we often forget about the subsequent lowering of the weight after it has first been lifted.

Faya’s form tip #1: By exclusively pursuing this noisy and dangerous approach of throwing down the weights, the ogre is missing out on a vital part of the exercise – the eccentric phase. Rather than just letting gravity do all the work for you (i.e. where you just drop the weight as if ‘meh’), actually controlling the weight’s passage on the way down delivers significant benefit from a workout perspective. So, have a look at the brief explanation as to what the different phases are below, and then have a think about your own workout technique, and how you might apply it to the likes of press-ups, pull ups etc to squeeze that extra 25% out of your sessions! For more on this read here:

 http://fitnessontoast.com/2018/06/18/technique-freak/.

n.b. Faya’s considerate tip #5: Avoid being an inane ogre, by being gentle with the kit!

7) MIRROR, MIRROR, ON THE WALL…

…who’s the vainest of them all? Turns out, loads of people are equally vain at the gym! I understand that for many people, gymming is in itself a narcissitically aesthetic pursuit (I disagree), but endless flexing…checking your reflection after every set in the mirror is unnecessary. It’s been 2 minutes my friend, nothing’s changed – trust me you still look exactly the same. Are you doing it for yourself, or perhaps for everyone else? They probably don’t think it’s cool either.

Faya’s form tip #2: On a serious note, a lot of people don’t know but mirrors are a very useful tool in the gym,  perhaps the most important tool. They are there to ensure your form and technique is correct when training. Observing alignment, monitoring pace, overseeing planes… these are all helpful activities involving a mirror. Auto-arousal is not.

8) SHARING IS GLARING

Occupying one or several pieces of equipment for long periods of time is just inconsiderate.

Common scenario 1: It’s leg day and today I’m going to get my personal best on deadlifts. I’ve worked hard on this for weeks and I can’t wait! Only problem is the dude in the gym is doing not 3 sets, but 8 sets…. this is truly ridiculous as it’ll mean I won’t get a chance to do my deadlifts. Of course, in this instance you’d share. It’s something we learn at kindergarten – to share the toys. I could easily do a set IN BETWEEN his sets. That is gym selfishness and totally unacceptable! “ASK!” you say? I shouldn’t have to.

Scenario two: Two friends are training together and rather than share the squat rack they’ve taken two! And refuse to allow anyone to jump in to do a set in between their sets!!

Scenario three: This guy has some sort of Round-Robin circuit going on and has taken three machines which he uses back-to-back and in no way can anyone use them in-between his sets!

Faya’s considerate tip #6: I don’t know, be nice, or something. Just don’t man-spread the gym equipment – everyone needs to use it.

9) TIDY UP AFTER YOURSELF!

Perhaps you’re used to your mum making your bed, but in the gym, once you finish using something put it back where you found it. Thanks guys, walking up to the squat rack the first thing I have to do is remove all your weights! This is super mega inconsiderate.

Faya’s considerate tip #7: Also a little wipe down every now and again doesn’t go amiss. Most gyms have towelettes for precisely this purpose, and even a little sanitising spray. Disinfectant is a nicer thing to see on a bench than a dribbling shiny bacteria-laden slick of perspiration. :: shudder ::

And finally 10) BE PATIENT!

Aware that I currently sound like the worlds least patient gym-goer, but a little bit of patience goes along way. If someone is doing a set, perhaps wait before jumping in to grab a weight right beside him/her. I know myself if I’m on a set, I’m really focused, maybe its PB day and someone skirts in beside me and grabs weight…. It blocks my view of my form in the mirror, interrupts my headspace, breaks my concentration, makes me think about whether they’ll bump into me by mistake… this is all super distracting, so just take a moment and jump in when it’s safe to do so!

Well, that’s all for now. Only another 250 pet peeves left on the list, but that’s enough to start things going…

Thanks for reading my vented-scribbles of fitness frustration, and if you have any more to add to this list, PLEASE PLEASE write them in the comment section below! I would absolutely LOVE to know what ticks you off at the gym, because I’m probably the same too

Faya x

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Wearing: Lululemon Pants & Hoodie, Adidas Ultraboost Uncaged shoes..

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