#quest for the ink machine: shadows in the pages | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ziggyevenstar · 2 years ago

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scavenger hunt for halloween 2023, notes

Team 1

Clue 1: “In a joyful place where gifts are kept,

Look for me where dreams are wrapped and wept.

Beneath decorations that sparkle with glee,

I hide with the parcels, can you find me?”

Clue 2: Look in the place where hands wave goodbye,

In a place where germs are known to fly.

Search for a bottle, clear and clean,

With power to kill what can't be seen.

Where hands get wet and dirt is erased,

Your next clue lies in this essential space.

Clue 3: In a room where meals convene,

Where daily conversations gleam,

Look beneath the surface of wood and glue,

To find your next clue, hidden askew.

Hint: Seek beneath where plates are placed,

A spot unseen, neatly embraced.

Clue 4: "Seeking the aquatic realm where colors intertwine,

Within the brushstrokes of an artist's design.

In the gallery's depths, you must wade,

Find the canvas where vibrant scales are displayed.

Look for an artwork swimming with fins,

Where pigments dance and creativity begins.

Hurry, brave hunter, time's ticking away,

Find the beautiful clue, and bask in its display.

Clue 5: A place where DJs spin and dancers groove

Find a realm where music comes alive, a sonic behoove

In a cave of rhythm, a sanctuary of sound

Look high and low, search all around

Follow the wires that snake and intertwine

To amplify tunes, bringing joy divine

In this auditory haven, the music roam

Seek the kingdom of amplification, your quest's home

Clue 6: Where offerings are made, and prayers take flight,

Find the shrine where dark turns to light.

Look beneath a silvered canopy on high,

Where incense weaves dreams into the sky.

Where past candles flickering with sacred glow,

A hidden clue waits for you to show.

Clue 7: I am hidden, not out of sight,

In a place where two paths unite.

Pedal, pedal, don't you quit,

Look near a signpost, where trails hit.

Seek me out, with a keen eye,

Between the marker and the sky.

A prize awaits, for the one who's best,

To find me, your trusty two-wheeled quest.

Clue 8: "In the place where mysteries unfold,

search for a book that's weathered and old.

Beneath fictional branches of a tree that

whispers ancient secrets, with the help of bess and george, you'll find me.

Look close, sleuthing dear, for the answer to the riddle lies hidden within the pages of a forgotten

book on the witch tree.”

Team 2

Clue 1: "In the realm of waves and signals, where connections are made,

Seek out the hub of the digital aid.

Deftly tucked away, yet still within sight,

Look for a gateway that illuminates the night.

Find me where invisible networks convene,

Amidst the chaos of wires and the hum of machines”

Clue 2: "Look to me and you'll find your next clue.

Seek the object that measures and is sun placement in lieu.

Find me where seconds dance and hands move,

In a place that ensures you're never late to groove.”

Clue 3: A place of focus, where knowledge resides,

Where papers and things pile up, and thoughts collide.

Look for the spot when silence prevails,

Where the journey of learning never fails.

Clue 4: "Unlock the path to an icy delight,

In a chilly domain that brings culinary might.

Inside this abode of sustenance, concealed with might,

Seek within the chamber, where hunger takes flight.

Look beyond the doors adorned with handles bright,

For the treasure hidden within, oh what a sight!"

Clue 5: "In a realm of grape and oak so fine,

Search a place where glasses raise divine.

Seek the spirits that dance and flow,

Where labels tell of crafted glow.

Under the vine's shadow, day or night.

Raise a glass to toast, this clue has led your way,

In corks and bottles, the prize now lay.”

Clue 6: In a chamber of tasks and paper trails,

Where ink meets paper and creativity unveils,

Seek a device with buttons and lights,

That brings documents to life amidst black and whites.

Clue 7: "Look for me where files reside,

secrets and treasures to confide.

Connect me in, I'll store it all,

your data safe, both big and small.

Seek me where technology thrives,

where USB ports and backups thrive.

Find me now, oh puzzle pro,

beneath maybe, or I hide below!"

Clue 8: You've reached the Capitol, where the games begin,

Now search for the place where trust wears thin.

In a district renowned for mining coal,

Look for a building that stands apart, bold.

Find the tribute made of silver and steel,

And there you'll find the next clue to reveal.

Extra

"In the land of Halloween, where spooks and frights abide,

Search the graveyard shadows where a skeletal figure hides.

Beneath the moon's pale light, where pumpkins grin and cackle,

Find the resting place of Jack, inside a mystic anklet shackle.

But beware, for the clues are cunning and might leave you perplexed,

In the abandoned crypt, a key dressed in Jack's signature checks.”

In sacred pages of ancient lore,

The words of divine wisdom doth pour.

In a realm where faith and hope reside,

Seek the book that serves as a spiritual guide.

Head to a place where metaphorical pews align,

Where devout voices sing, intertwine.

Within this sanctuary, humble and grand,

By this place, your clue shall stand.

Embark on a quest within these halls,

Where knowledge thrives and learning calls.

In a classroom of buzzing minds and keys,

Seek the device that empowers and frees.

Find a spot where a screen comes illuminated,

And student goes to be educated.

In a haven where minds unite to learn and think,

Seek the classroom where pixels blink.

In the realm of triumph and academic glee,

Seek the evidence of a milestone decree.

In a time capsule of memories, where nostalgia thrives,

Find the memento that commemorates high school lives.

With tassel and gown in a timeless pose,

Find the image of a journey that greatly grows.

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bloomsoftly · 8 years ago

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take your time (in a hurry), ch. 2

this is part 2 of @ragwitch‘s birthday gift! i’ll have one more up this week, on her actual birthday. if you haven’t read the first chapter, this one won’t make much sense. love you, queenie. ❤️❤️❤️

read: part 1, part 3

Chapters: 2/? Relationships: wintershieldshock (Darcy/Bucky/Steve), Darcy & Tony Rating: T (for now) Summary: Darcy is the bastard daughter of one Anthony Edward Stark, who was banished from New York for getting a girl pregnant out of wedlock. Now that her grandparents have died, she embarks on a quest out west to find her long-lost father. Twenty years later. Should be a piece of cake. (old west!AU)

Despite a restless night, Darcy was up just after dawn the next morning. There was too much to do; at some point in the middle of all her tossing and turning, she’d realized she couldn’t stay here. Not in this house, and certainly not in the shadow of Zola and his scheming machinations. Whether or not Peggy found a way to find her father, she wasn’t staying in New York.

She wasn’t looking forward to telling Maria. Not that she had to—the other woman had a knack for being able to read her thoughts almost before she’d even had them. In this case, it was easy. As soon as Darcy directed some of the servants to start packing up the house—starting with her grandparents’ bedroom and other, lesser-used rooms of the house—Maria was there at her elbow. “Not going to wait for Mrs. Carter to come back before you make your decision?”

“You know she’d yell at you for calling her that, Maria. And no, I’m not. We both know that there’s only one option for me. Can you see me tied down to a man too scared to tell Zola no?”

The other woman only snorted in reply. Dusting her hands briskly on her apron, she said, “Well, that's settled, then. I'll have the maids pack up in here, next.” She waved a hand around Howard’s study at all the books and his strange inventions, plus the keepsakes he’d gathered from his travels. Darcy looked up from where she'd been combing through the loose sheets of paper on her grandfather’s desk. She wasn't ready for this room to be packed up, and she opened her mouth to tell Maria that, but was sidetracked at the next words that came out of the housekeeper’s mouth.

“Then we'll go through your clothing to decide what will survive the trip.”

“What trip?”

Maria leveled her with a skeptical, don't-try-to-pull-one-over-on-me-missy look. “For the journey west. You trying to tell me that you're planning on leaving New York and it's not to go find your father?”

She hadn't said as much out loud, but Darcy couldn't deny that it had always been her intention, ever since Aunt Peggy’s words the night before. Even if she spent the rest of her whole life looking. She looked away. “I'm not ready for the servants to clean up in here.” That was all the answer Maria needed.

With a soft squeeze to her shoulder, she murmured, “I thought not. Well, I hope you find something that hints at where he might be. ‘West’ is mighty vague, even for an intrepid young woman like yourself. I wouldn't hold my breath, though.” She headed across the room, reaching for the chords for the drapes. “And while you do that, I might as well go see to the preparations for our journey. It's never too early to get the ball rolling.”

“Our?” Darcy muttered blankly, blinking owlishly against the light as Maria threw open the curtains. Dust floated in every direction, disturbed by the sudden motion. No one had been in this room in days, not since Darcy’s grandparents had died.

“Our,” Maria confirmed, her tone as hard as steel, and as immovable, too. “You didn't think I was gonna let my little girl go traipsing off across the country without me, did you?”

In between one heartbeat and the next, Darcy flew across the room. One second, she was staring at her friend from behind the desk, finger still tracing the line of ink across one of Howard’s ledgers. And in the next, she was in Maria’s arms, clinging hard and blinking away tears. The other woman’s arms were light and gentle against her back, rubbing soothing circles against the fabric covering her back.

Once she was sure she wouldn't embarrass herself by crying like a child, Darcy pulled away. Maria’s face was stern, but her eyes were understanding. “It's been a rough week for you, little dove, I know. But you'll get through this. You've still got me.”

Nodding her head quickly, Darcy stepped back. Smiling around a sniffle, she assured, “I know. I don't know what I'd do without you, Maria.”

“You'd figure something out, Darce. You're a resourceful one. But you don't have to. And whenever you find someone you can rely on—”

“—you shouldn't work alone,” Darcy finished.

(read more link here)

“Good girl.” With one last pat to her shoulder, Maria headed for the doorway. “Your grandfather never learned that lesson. I might suggest going through your grandmother’s things, instead. Of the two, she was the more likely to learn from her mistakes, don't you think?” She tilted her head toward the smaller desk in the corner, the one that had belonged to Darcy’s grandmother.

She had a point. It had been her Grandpa’s greatest weakness, to always think he could do everything alone. He’d never hesitated to shove away the people who disappointed him, and he never looked back. With that in mind, Darcy unceremoniously dropped the leather-bound book she was holding to the desktop—she didn't care about being sloppy, now that Grandpa wasn't around to yell at her for it.

Grandma’s desk was much less cluttered, and she was able to pick through its contents easily. The smell of her perfume still lingered on the pages of the books, and Darcy held them up to her nose with a pained inhale. She closed her eyes against the memories and the grief; it had always been so much easier to love Grandma. Less hard edges, without the alcohol and self-imposed isolation that had worn away at Grandpa.

But her work was also devoid of any mention of Darcy's Papa, which brought on grief of another kind. She'd been so hopeful—

“Mrs. Carter and Miss Carter are here to see you, Miss Darcy,” one of the maids said from the doorway, eyeing her with interest.

“Thank you, Anna.”

The girl—well, she was a little older than Darcy, so probably couldn't be considered a girl at all—lingered in the doorway. “Do you want me to pack e’erything up in here, next?”

She sighed. “Yes, you might as well. Thank you.”

With a bob and a curtsy, the maid was gone. Deciding it was best not to keep Aunt Peggy waiting, Darcy turned toward the door. She trailed a reluctant hand over her grandmother’s desk in a final goodbye. Only to stop dead as one of her fingers tripped a little wooden switch. With a quiet click, a secret compartment opened on the desk.

Inside rested a small book, bound in dyed leather and wreathed in dust.

For Darcy, the inside of the cover read. With excitement rising within her, she quickly flipped through the pages. Her heart sank as page after page was blank, but she persevered through to the end of the book. There, on the last page and written in Maria Stark’s distinct handwriting, was a message.

If I die before I’m able to tell you this in person, I’m sorry. Look for a friend near Santa Fe. I love you.

Tucking the book into one of her hidden pockets, she hastened for the door. With any luck, Aunt Peggy would have more information on her father’s whereabouts. Santa Fe. She had a direction, at least. With her pulse pounding in her ears and her heart lodged firmly in her throat, she practically flew down the stairs. She didn't care what any of the servants thought, for once. All she cared about was finally being able to find her father. Twenty years after her birth, she might actually have a way to locate him.

Peggy and Maria were already murmuring to each together as she walked in, shoulder to shoulder as Sharon looked on. “You’ve been doing what?” Maria hissed, dropping her voice as the door opened. Seeing that it was Darcy who walked in, she turned her glare back on the other woman.

“I’ve been keeping track of Anthony over the years,” Peggy repeated. “As best I can, at any rate. His wild streak doesn't seem to have abated at all, as far as I can tell.” She held a letter in her hands, which she brought up in front of her eyes. Peering at it, she said, “My most recent letter indicates that Anthony was holed up somewhere near—”

“Santa Fe?” Darcy cut in, eager to prove Grandma’s hint useful.

Peggy's sharp gaze met hers. “Puente Antiguo, actually. A little desert town near Santa Fe. But that's a hell of a guess, girl.”

Everyone's eyes were on her. “Grandma hid a note for me to find.”

“Ahh.” Aunt Peggy’s eyes were fond. “I always knew Maria Stark had a backbone stronger than she let on. Too bad she didn't use it while she was alive.” Darcy opened her mouth to defend her grandmother—how, she didn't know, when she secretly agreed with Peggy’s assessment—but the older woman waved her off. “But no matter. It looks like your grandmother wanted to reunite you, as well.”

No one knew what to say to that. “So, what now?” Darcy asked into the quiet of the room. “If I leave, what’s to prevent Mr. Zola from getting his hand’s on my grandparents’ estate anyway?”

“I met with the solicitor this morning,” Peggy revealed, heading toward the settee. The two younger women followed, but Maria headed to the hallway instead. Probably for tea and coffee.

“Mr. Fury?” Darcy liked the man, a lot. He was one of the few people—including Aunt Peggy—who had always been willing to speak his mind around the Starks, social consequences be damned. He had a strange sort of naked ambition that Darcy admired, if only because it meant she wasn't always having to read between the lines to assess his motives. She also liked his courage; as a black businessman—in banking, no less—he had more than his fair share of enemies in the city. But he never gave up. And he was ruthless, which was why Grandpa Howard had hired him in the first place.

“The very one. He sent a note for me while I was out yesterday, asking for a meeting. He implied it was urgent.” She paused, and Darcy barely restrained the urge to roll her eyes. Aunt Peggy was wonderful and her stories were so interesting. But she also had a serious flair for the dramatic.

After a few seconds, it was clear that she wasn’t going to immediately continue. Huffing a silent breath, Darcy prompted, “And?”

“Let’s not be uncivilized, dear. We can wait for tea.” Peggy’s eyes were shark-like, sharp and piercing, and her grin was borderline wicked. She’d never been this openly devious when Darcy’s grandparents were alive. At least, not that Darcy could remember. She liked this new version of her aunt.

That didn’t mean she wanted to have to wait, though. Turning her head slightly so that Peggy wouldn’t see, she caught Sharon’s gaze and rolled her eyes. Sharon bit her lip and stifled a laugh behind her hand. A bony hand reached out and pinched Darcy’s ribs, hard enough to make her jump. She squeaked and turned an accusing gaze on the older woman, rubbing the soreness away with a palm. “Aunt Peggy!” she whined. But her aunt wasn’t fazed; she just stared at Darcy with a challenging look.

The door opened, breaking their playful standoff. Maria looked between them with pursed lips, then rolled her eyes and moved to set up the tea and coffee on the low-standing table that sat between the three women. “Why don’t you pinch Maria when she rolls her eyes?” Darcy muttered under her breath.

“Because Maria would skin anyone alive if they touched her without permission.” That drew a reluctant grin from the housekeeper, who ducked her head to hide her pride at the statement. Darcy looked at her with new eyes, then turned back to Peggy with a hopeful look. Her aunt chuckled. “That’s her story to tell, darling. But I wouldn’t try to pinch her, if I were you.”

Maria cleared her throat and handed Peggy her cup of tea. “Anyway. What did I miss?”

“Nothing at all,” Sharon muttered grumpily. “Aunt Peggy refused to get to any of the good stuff while you were gone.” The woman clucked her tongue at her niece’s cheek, but Darcy drowned it out with her laughter. She and Sharon exchanged matching looks of mischief, and a little piece of Darcy’s anxiety drifted away. Sharon had always been the quieter of the two, but it was good to remember that she had a friend through all of this devastation. Someone her own age who could understand how she was feeling.

“It’s true, Aunt Peggy,” Darcy said, still chuckling. “You were playing up the suspense while we waited.”

Her aunt waved that away and turned her gaze on Maria. “Nevermind all that. Maria, I was just telling the girls that Fury sent me a note yesterday, telling me he needed to speak with me on an urgent matter.”

Maria’s cup clattered a little against the plate as she set it down. The hot coffee inside sloshed and turned, but didn’t spill over the edge. Her gaze was curious as it met Peggy’s, and all of a sudden Darcy remembered the fond way Maria spoke about Mr. Fury, and the rumors that had spread below-stairs about the two of them. She’d never given them any second thought; what Maria did and with whom didn’t seem to be her business, quite frankly. But now Darcy wondered whether she’d be taking her away from a man she loved, if she pulled Maria west.

The sound of Peggy’s voice had her putting that thought aside, to ponder over later. “The urgent matter Mr. Fury alluded to was the matter of your grandparents’ estate, Darcy. Zola got one thing right, at least—you are to inherit everything.” The information, for all that it was shared so casually, had the effect of shattering china on the room. Everyone froze. It was ridiculous, really, considering that they’d all expected such an outcome. Well, there’d always been the chance that her Grandpa would’ve changed his mind, especially after the fight they’d had.

She hadn’t said anything to anyone about it, but she’d been worried that in the end they would decide that she wasn’t worthy, their bastard granddaughter. The one whose name carried a smear of shame that wouldn’t ever go away, the product of a son they preferred to pretend they’d never had. Darcy hadn’t ever felt like she truly belonged in the Stark family home—she’d had little fantasies of her unknown mother coming to fight for her, or her Papa stealing her away in the middle of the night so that they could go on adventures together. She’d loved Grandpa and Grandma, at the end of it all, but they hadn’t ever truly felt like home.

Maria’s gentle touch on her knee had Darcy looking up. “They loved you,” she murmured, too quietly for the other two women to hear. It was soft and gentle, a reminder without recriminations. Maria had been a major part of Darcy’s life, practically since birth, and knew exactly how tumultuous the relationship between Darcy and her grandparents had been. Not too bad, clearly, or at least not bad enough that they’d cut her out of the will.

With an aching heart, Darcy found herself wishing that some had been set aside for her long-banished father. A sign of forgiveness, or even atonement, for pushing him away. She said nothing of her thoughts, though. Patting Maria’s hand, she offered a nod and a subdued smile and turned back to Peggy. “And once Zola finds out—”

“He won’t stop,” Peggy confirmed. “He’ll get much worse, if anything. His methods have been fairly subdued until now. But if he thinks he can force you into marriage, well…there’s nothing he won’t do.” The words she wasn’t saying hung in the air over them, and Darcy and Sharon both shuddered. They’d heard the horror stories.

“But the good news, if you wish to call it that, is that a marriage, forced or otherwise, is his only option. Your grandparents named me your guardian until your twenty-fifth birthday or marriage, whichever comes sooner.”

“What does that mean, exactly?”

Peggy took one long drink from and set the empty cup on the plate with a decisive click. “Might as well get all the details out of the way, hadn’t we? Then we’ll know what we’re working with, here. Better call for more tea, Maria. This is going to take a while.”

The explanation was a long one, if only because Darcy was new to discussions of inheritance and legal verbiage. In the end, the Carters stayed all day and well into evening. There was a tense moment, right when they were discussing the arrangements that Peggy would have to make with Mr. Fury before Darcy set out west, when a maid scratched at the door. “Mr. Arnim Zola is at the door, Miss. He asked if you’re available to receive him.”

Everyone looked at her in silence, and it took Darcy a second to realize that she was the mistress of the house, now, even if Aunt Peggy was over for a visit. “Please tell him I’m indisposed, Beth.” The girl curtsied and went on her way, but the little ball of terror she’d felt at hearing Zola’s name didn’t fade.

When she turned back, there was a sympathetic glint in Aunt Peggy’s eyes. It was immediately swept away in the wake of pure determination. “Whatever you do, Darcy-girl, don’t let him in. Pretend to be ill or overcome by grief or whatever you have to do, but do not allow him entrance. Cease to go out altogether, if you must—actually, it would be best not to tell anyone of your plans, other than those already in the room. Zola has eyes and ears everywhere. I cannot stress how conniving that man can be, and how dangerous he is to your future.”

She already knew—that one conversation from the night before was enough to last Darcy a lifetime. Instead of saying so, she simply nodded her head in agreement. “I understand, Aunt Peggy.”

“Good. Then I will work with Nicholas on the legal aspect of things, Sharon will keep her ear to the ground on her social outings, to see if Zola has been stupid and let something slip. And you and Maria will sort out the house, Darcy. Decide what you want to keep, what you want to take with you, and what you would like me to sell for you. And I will take care of the rest.”

That was the plan.

And it was a good one, for Darcy’s physical and mental health. It was a huge task, to decide to pick up and move west. There was the house and the servants and all of her grandparents’ things—and her father’s, which she’d found hidden away in one of the attics—and even if Peggy could technically handle all of it, Darcy didn’t feel right leaving it all behind without a backwards glance. And she was grateful, too, for the time to breathe, to acclimate herself to the idea of moving west. Perhaps for the rest of her life, when all she��d ever known was New York. It was a daunting thought.

So, all in all, Darcy was in favor of the plan. And for a couple of weeks it went very well, and nothing seemed like it could possibly go wrong: there was not a peep from Zola and Peggy worked with Mr. Fury to make sure everything was in order, while Darcy and Maria took charge of packing up the house, divvying it into what would be kept for Darcy and what would be sold at auction. She should’ve known that it couldn’t be that simple, but she was caught up in the relative ease of the entire process.

Until, that is, someone decided to set the house on fire.

#wintershieldshock #darcy x bucky x steve #darcyland #darcy is tony's daughter #queenie and bloom forever #old west!au #fic update #take your time in a hurry

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decadententhusiastblizzard-blog · 8 years ago

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Collecting And Playing Classic Online video Games

Results 1 -- 15 of about 100 for workbench magazine back issues. I would examine articles more than once and longingly look at the screenshots that built the mag. Looking back through the journal I notice many neat touches in this article and there, made even better simply by the gradual inclusion of more and more Japanese artwork (due to the death of the home market they focused on import titles). I possess never owned a PlayStation in virtually any form so the likes of Unchartered, The Last Individuals, NieR: Automata, Horizon Zero Dawn, Shadow Of The Colossus, etc. The magazines, mostly from the 1990s, incredibly document the industry's transition into the 32-bit era and beyond. David Potter, who was greatly inspired by Higinbotham and worked with him at the time Tennis for Two was designed and built, commented in Higinbotham's designs, stating, Higinbotham's circuits had been rock solid. The corporation is having internal problems, but it aims to get the ride-sharing service started ASAP. Even Michael Merzenich, the founder of Posit Science — one of the oldest makers of brain-training products — acknowledges that skepticism is warranted. I had a huge number of ST Action and ST Format magazines, they must nevertheless be in my house somewhere. It's almost as if the amount of pain and suffering they went through to receive the magazine out can be experienced by its reader at every turn of those ‘immaculate' pages. Was having a spring clean this afternoon, and whilst rummaging around in the attic i found 2 big cardboard boxes full of online video games magazines from when i was a kid. It was extraordinarily hard to play, even for my own Call of Duty-toughened brain. from this source The Official Nintendo Magazine was actually rather decent during the N64 era, hence I'd get that. They were my sole subs but used to by Game titles Master religiously and also Official PlayStation Mag and Sega Saturn Magazine. These young adults to which the Playstation was marketed generally had jobs and maybe a family to support having themselves been brought up on earlier generations of video game. Play online video games that are entertaining for the whole family, plus video game tips and reviews. For the issue came back from the ink jet printers we'd literally race through the construction to get it, then sit around reading it and laughing at the own jokes. Had been exposed to adult magazines other such media. Nintendo Power was the only one I was ever subscribed to (well my parents for me). I'd upload some photo's of some of my old issues of C+VG.... If i knew how to. A prototype of what became Project: Et?, it required players to pilot a car down a winding path for a constant speed while trying to keep from running off the highway. Content of games by analyzing magazine advertisements, the current study seeks to investigate. Increasing violence could have significance for players' behavior. Hatred, Type A behavior, and stress hormones at rest and after playing. Media violence leads some children to behave aggressively (Joint Statement, 2000). Mean Machines helped shape my teenage head and it pleases me to understand those interested in writing it had mainly because much fun as I had browsing it. Among those predisposed to the leisure-luxury your life, better games mean people are quicker to swap working hours for gaming several hours; given nes-era gaming technology, a twenty-something might decline an opportunity for overtime work to have a little longer with Mario and Luigi. Fifty years ago, before either arcades or home video video games, visitors waited in line at Brookhaven National Laboratory that can be played Tennis for Two, an electronic tennis game that is undoubtedly a forerunner of the modern video game. Webpage for myself moved onto a Playstation magazine directed at kids. Magazines simply could not continue to write in the fashion by which they had been accustomed to for the last decade roughly previous to the shift - though with one exception. Within that world, players, often in clubs, take on quests and square off repeatedly in matches against opponents. Rich was and still is a legend who not just contributed to Mean Machines and CVG, but also helped to co-found the few issues of the famed MAXIMUM (find our feature here). Released in the official magazines for the Xbox, Playstation, and Nintendo consoles. We would spend hours upon hours just simply replaying the same game demos and watching videos and reading text data files. He doesn't just miss the forgone income and opportunities; he could have been reading, he laments. In some ways, We Are Chicago is definitely most profound not in order to delves in weighty issues like crime and poverty or the capitalist system, but rather when it illuminates an existence without the little certainties that make life endurable.

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