#severely overestimated our ability to catch on to things

[possumkingluca]

still thinking about the time i did one of those hunger game simulation things with the characters being all the strixhaven student npcs, my strixhaven campaign's party members, and extus narr + one just labeled 'the rest of the oriq' it was actually so goofy because tell me how the oriq immediately set off a bomb killing 4 people INCLUDING THEIR LEADER??? tell me how all the party members died almost immediately except for my character who got tragically betrayed by one of his friends??? tell me how the last two people alive were the biggest fucking nerds in the entire school?? fucking URZMAKTOK and DRAZHOMIR??? tell me how the SOPPING WET CAT of a minotaur that is drazhomir won????? also quentillius died of dysentery on day 1 which is the death he deserves.

[visual-explorxtion]

Vinylic Taste [Carlos Oliveira x Reader] - One Shot

Summary: You’re trapped and alone in the midst of an outbreak, struggling to survive. In the depths of your despair, Carlos came to the rescue. Through your ups and downs, Carlos soon became your best partner and vice versa. But...you soon realise Carlos isn’t who he appears to be.

A/N: Are you reading this at night time? Good...Wanted to write a Carlos fic but also wanna try and write something different from my usual stuff. But also got super distracted by other ideas and this fic got pushed waaaay further back and kinda took a different turn from my original plan and 11 pages in, I panicked. Still in first person POV.

TW: Graphic depiction of Violence, Blood, Gore, Angst, a bit of horror (idek), prob not as graphic as you think but it’s still graphic, uhh language and bit of a Mind Break.

Words: 6.0k

How did things turn out this way? Blood seeped its way across the vinyl floor, forming a pool around my feet as I sat helplessly with my body shivering in fear. Chest rising and falling rapidly and eyes locked wide open, my blurry gaze fixated onto a man but I could only make an outline of them. Him; on his knees, lays a lifeless corpse in between them, all drenched in venous blood as the deep red colour streams down every rigid and curves of his face. The air is thick combined with the stench of iron and gunpowder. He stares at his hands, covered in liquid but not his own. He laughs- echoes through my soul and pulsated the room- never have I ever heard of something so harrowing and sinister coming from a human. If he even had any sanity left in him. Neck twists abnormally towards my direction, head tilts eerily as if it's only supported by a thin piece of string. A soft gasp left my mouth, throat scorched with fear and lips quivering. My limbs lay still no matter how much I tell myself to run. My sense of self is being sucked into his dark, endless gaze. The light behind his eyes had vanished, all that's left is a soulless carcass I no longer recognise.

"Carlos...What happened to you?"

---------------

The thunderous rain came washing down my face, lowering my field of vision. The moisture trickles down from thick strands of hair and onto the rubble concrete in a light rhythmic pitter-patter. In the span of 24 hours, everything turned from just an average day in this town to be engulfed and corrupted by a fiery shitshow. Humans eating humans, without a hint of remorse. They have no emotions, no pain tolerance. Their sole purpose is to feed on anything that has a heartbeat. It creeps me out. Like somebody playing a joke too far to the point of no return. That's what I'd initially thought. In my struggle to keep myself alive in this godforsaken town, each bullet is scarce but every item you gather is expendable. As the gun recoils, a leftover shell would flicker out with each bullet piercing the head of the undead. A steady hand, steady trigger finger and steady breathing. One by one, I shot them down. The feeling of ambivalence surrounds my mind with every shot I take. This isn't right, they are...were...humans, flesh and blood.

The ringing in my ears grew louder with each squeezing action I take. The heat of adrenaline coursing through under my skin, my peripheral vision gradually disappears until I'm left with the image of head to head. Before I could react, my back was already on the ground. The backside of my head slams against the solid sidewalk with a loud crack, the noise echoed inside for a nanosecond. My self-defence mechanism kicks in- forearm struggle against the zombie's throat, it's jaw hinges wide open with blood oozing out as it frantically pushes it's deadweight onto me. Its skin texture is abnormal, like every part of them is set in stone. Why didn't rigor mortis happen? My fingers tremble, trying to grasp for the handle of my gun that's just out of reach. Muscles burn and ache as my defence is crumbling to its limit, teeth-gritting with every last strength that I have. I refuse to die like this. Not like them.

As my forearm grew tired- inching closer and closer to my face- I squeeze my eyes shut, refusing to look Death in its soulless gaze and let it consume me slowly in the space of darkness. The next moment, I felt liquid splatter across my face but the pain never set in. My eyes flew open and watched as the corpse lay limping on my arm and the rest drop dead around my vicinity. I grunt as I discard the corpse aside, inspecting it one more time for any sign of movement. Face frozen in place as blood runs dry from the temple. The sight of this made my stomach churn.

"Hey, are you alright? Can you stand?"

A muscular figure towers over me, fully equipped in tactical gear. One hand armed with an assault rifle and the other extended out towards my direction. His hand is all worn out, even though the gloves I can see his fingers covered in blisters and scratches. They have seen better days.

"Yeah...I'm fine."

I choked out as I accept his assistance. His grip heaved my weight without breaking a sweat but may have overestimated his strength a little. His aid offset my balance and my body crash-landed in his embrace. Even with me standing on my own two feet, he's still almost a foot taller than I am. Our eyes met for a brief moment but I immediately jumped out of his arms as heat flushed up my cheeks and I regain my composure. He chuckles.

"My name is Carlos, I'm with the UBCS and we're here to get you out of here."

The organisation doesn't ring any bells in mind, nevertheless, receiving help from a rescue team is better than trudging through this damned hell alone. I would be lucky if I could even make it out alive. But, this strange rescue encounter sends comfort to my mind and slowly easing off my anxiety, or maybe it's because I'm no longer alone with Carlos's presence next to mine. Either way, I shouldn't let my guard down even with the help I'm getting.

The rest of his team is gathered in the subway station, we've arrived just in time for the last train to bound. Every one of them is tattered and covered in rags, exhausted and in pain. I can't imagine what kind of hell they've fought through, compared to myself, it's nothing but a just a minor scratch. Carlos caught up with his crew while I took a seat as all my energy is drained from my soul. The cool metal sensation seeped through my jeans and triggered goosebumps and hair along my arm, I couldn't care less about the shock as exhaustion washes over my limbs. I've been beaten down mentally and physically enough for me to not realise the train was already in motion. The view from out the window is nothing but a fast pace blur of darkness. All that just happened felt so unreal- the gush of blood, the viscous touch of muscle fibres, so red yet so cold. Getting pinned to the ground by this...thing. Its strength is vicious and animalistic with a face that doesn't resemble a human anymore. And at that moment my mind went blank. What if, at that very second, nobody came to save me? What if, I just gave up? What if, I let its teeth sink into my neck? What if...I just died there and then?

"How are you holding up?"

Carlos appeared before me, interrupting all the trepidatious thoughts. A slow realisation sets in as my hands tremble in my lap. Immediately, I curl my fingers into fists to cover up the jitter from him. "Still holding" I swallowed and smile politely, hoping the lump in my throat won't betray me right now. He returned the smile and positioned himself in the seat next to mine. "You were brave out there. Fighting by yourself...not many people have the balls to do that."

I let out a quiet snort. "No, you saved my ass. I wasn't brave. I was just lucky. If it wasn't for you I would've..." A pause, "I would've become one of them by now." Tears tingled behind my eyes as I blinked several times to keep them at bay. Carlos catches my hands tenderly, unravelling my fingers one by one, releasing all the tension I took a grasp of and crimson liquid came dribbling out the crescent-shaped wound. The fear in my head numbs all my pain; unaware of the shallow cuts, the maroon shade stained the dents of my fingertips. He took out some bandages from one of his pouches and carefully bind them to stop the bleeding. "There. That should do the trick." he grins as I admire his patchwork. "Thank you." I returned the kindness and we sat in comfortable silence. Upon closer inspection, Carlos does look kinda cute. The corner of his eyes crinkles and smile line deepens whenever he laughs, not to mention, his voluminous mane is the centre of attention. It kind of reminds me of an Old English Sheepdog and that image alone made me giggle.

"Carlos, we have a situation." we turn our attention to another team member, dressed in the same gear as Carlos- except his appearance was more well-kept, clean-shaven. Carlos turns, face sombre, knowing the news that comes next won't be any good. "What's the status?"

"Charlie's comms are down. The situation currently unknown."

"And Bravo team's position?"

"They're en route to Charlie, but they've already lost half their men"

He ponders for a moment. "Alright, change of plan. We'll meet up with Bravo and rescue Charlie. Once we get there, see if you can call for extraction out of this city."

His colleague nodded and went off to relay the message to the rest of the squad. Carlos turns back and kneels down, looking at me in the eyes, he softly spoke. "Hey. We're gonna have to take a detour, but I promise you, I'll keep you safe." He paused, reading my reaction. "Are you okay with that?"

My gaze wanders around his nervous expression, but I simply smiled. "Yeah, it's better than being alone out there right now. And besides, I don't doubt your abilities to keep me safe." His face went blank for a few seconds to unexpectedly bursts into laughter as though my answer caught him by surprise. "Okay. We'll be getting off next stop. In the meantime, stock up on some supplies cuz we don't know what's out there. Talk to one of the guys and they can get what you need." Carlos winked before leaving me to psych myself up for what's coming ahead. Knowing the chaos that's happening out there, it's going to be a dirty fight.

Our clattering footsteps relay around the walls of the subway as the lights flicker in a retrospective beat. The place is bare and quiet. Too quiet, even. Not even a single croak or heavy breathing could be perceived. It is deadly silent. Why is it empty? With the city running amok, you'd expect people to be escaping this hell hole; or worst-case scenario, laying dead in this underground. But, nothing. Not a single body insight. That's what worries me. I could say the same for the rest of Carlos's team. Which means, whatever is waiting for us out there is greater than what we could imagine.

My knees are getting weaker by the minute, shuffling closer to Carlos as I grasp my gun tight. Fingers nervously fiddling with the indents of the grip; sucking in a cool breath of air and pulling my shoulders back, we press on.

The layout of the underground is intricate and labyrinthine- reaching an intersection every few minutes, but we haven't let our guard down. Turning the last corner, we finally arrived at the main plaza; still remaining empty but the place was already thrashed. Carlos signalled for everyone to spread out and search the area, while I linger next to him. My heartbeat is racing quick as ever since I stepped off the train with the rapid pulse stuck in the back of my throat. He gently touches my arm, worry flash before his eyes but I shook my head. 'I'm fine' I mouthed. He looked at me for a few seconds, unconvinced, but decided not to force it any further. This place is eerily bleak, what was once lively is now filled with desolation. Somehow there's a slight dread and sadness inside me. The noise of metal clanking took my attention away from my surroundings.

"Damn it. The exits blocked." He gave it another shot but the gate shows no sign of budging. A short, heavy breath escapes his nose. I examined his troubled look and spoke out, "I'll go look for a way to open the gate."

He was stunned. "No. I can't let you do this. It too dangerous-"

"Please, I insist. You've helped me enough so let me do this. Even if I am in trouble, you'll come to save me, right?"

Carlos's expression is tense; I can almost see his thoughts rotating, like clockwork, inside his mind. Considering and reconsidering my offer. At last, my words overthrows him. "Okay, but take this." He hands me a palm-size radio, all tattered and taped. "Anything you see, you radio in. And I mean that. If you see one of those things, do not hesitate to shoot. Got it?"

"Yes, sir," I respond, sloppily saluting as I backed away to complete my new objective, continue to traverse down to the backside of the plaza. By the repetition of office doors, this justifies that I'm going in the right direction, but which one? The fluorescent lights blinked abruptly before returning to normal. Seems like the building is getting more unstable, with time quickly ticking away, I should hurry. And by some miraculous luck, I stumbled upon a door that catches my attention. 'Employees Only', this must be it. The door isn't locked but it took a great amount of energy to push a gap open, just enough for me to squeeze through.

Stacks of documents and brick computers blockade the door and next to it; a dead corpse that was once the employee of this place. He must have been dead for 2 hours- top, by the looks of it. The blood forms into a pool around the body and adheres to the sole of my boots. He took the quick way out. A blow to the head with his own pistol, laying dormant in his hand, now motionless in white. Crimson red liquid and shards depicted the blank wall, chunks frozen in place.

"I'm so sorry..."

Choking back my grief, I resume my search and in front of me is my mission objective. Monochromatic screens all tracking specific places of the building. Right on the bigger screen, displays Carlos and his men searching the perimeter. I radio in, "Carlos, come in. I'm in the control room. Hang on, I'll get the gate open."

"Good job. Hurry back and we'll get out-"

The building fades into darkness, heightening my sense of fear in this unfamiliarity. I draw out my gun and tightening my hold like it's my lifeline. My chest stiffens with each shallow breath I took, the effect of the blackout is developing claustrophobia within me. I heaved and the lack of oxygen in my brain cause me to hallucinate all my nightmares, but the image of Carlos flashed vividly in my mind. I took a deep breath and count to three. One...Two...Three... The emergency lights came on before my eyes and my anxiety reverts back to a sense of tranquillity. Talk about timing.

"Carlos? Carlos! Are you okay?" Please tell me he's okay.

No reply.

"Carlos? Are you there? I can't see you." I bit my lip, searching relentlessly on the screen for a trace of him. Just any sign at all.

"Yeah, we're okay. We've taken cover but it's pitch black out here, but...we could only see so much with our flashlight. See if you can get the power back on from your end"

Frantically, I pressed every button presented on the switchboard, nothing seems to be doing the trick. "Negative. I don't think I can do anything from here." All of a sudden, the floor began to rumble. And gradually it became stronger that shook the whole room, files and objects tumble to the ground until it subsides back down again, just like a tank passing by. "What was that?" I said in dismay.

"I don't know..." Coming from the other side of the line, a low growl and heavy footsteps. "But, whatever the fuck that is...It's definitely in here with us now."

In search of the monitor, I glue my eyes to the blurry image shown; even if everything doesn't seem out of the ordinary, my gut feeling is telling me otherwise. Still as a statue, they listened in closely to every motion IT makes. The sound is too quiet to be perceived. Out of the corner of the screen, something whoosh by. Its movements are too fast for me to catch but it's inching closer and closer to the lifeforms. With one swift swipe, it took a man down, and then the next. The claw marks on the wall...it stretches 10 feet wide from point to point, even looking through the screen, the blood is so vividly deep in hue. It crawls in close, but the team is still desperately searching.

It strikes! "Get down!" My voice is shaking down to its core.

They duck, but some did not make it. Their limbs severed; corpse dangling in half on the claw of the monstrous being, still clinging and screaming for their lives and then cease all at once. I shrieked out in horror. The size of that thing knocked the air out of my lungs. This being couldn't possibly be a human?! The zombie creation stood ten times its original size. The exposed skeleton is partially bound by its flesh- all swelled up and tainted, its tail bone morphed to a whip carrying a single-edge blade. Claws digging into the shallow pool of blood as the liquid cascade down the cracks of the marble flooring. The remaining squad open fire, bullets fly and ricochet off the wall. In the brief moment of spark, they lost sight of the target again.

"Shit, where is it?" I can hear the frustration in Carlos's tone.

Their flashlight drifts around the room as the tension sets in. You fear what you can't see, even more so if all you could see is darkness. The beast growls and encircles them, but the squad can't pinpoint where the sound is coming from. Intensity fills your gut as you watch the monitor closely, decoding its every move. After a beat, it leaps.

"Carlos, your 4 o'clock!"

He whips around at the speed of sound as he squeezes the trigger. The blast took impact greater than his expectation, every shot penetrated into its fleshy fibres while it screeched with a chalkboard sound. It struggles to keep a hold of itself up on the pillars as it collapses and tumbles to the ground. Without missing a beat, the team executes the behemoth until it turns into a bloody pulp, killing it with brute force. They inspected the pulverized mess further before they could ease off their defences. As if by command, the power's back on. My stomach turns into a knot. This is strange, but I pay no mind to it.

"Carlos, you alright?" I asked.

"Yeah...that was too close. That thing was too quick... We could've been killed here if it wasn't for you. You were our eyes when we couldn't see so...thank you." I could almost hear him blush at the other end of the line.

"Don't sweat it. Alright, I'm gonna get the gate open." I pulled the lever and watch the gate rise and retracted back through the screen.

"Got it. Now get your ass back he-" THUMP! Something's outside the door, trying to crank it open.

THUMP!

"Carlos? Carlos, someone's trying to get in here." my voice shivers.

"What? What do you mean someo-"

BANG! The door flew open. As an instinct, I drew my gun and aimed it towards them. A team of four heavily armed soldiers dressed in black armoury kicked in, almost like a SWAT team, weapons aimed ready. Without a second thought, I opened two shots on their thighs and calves to buy myself some time. They did not flinch, nor did it cause any pain to them. The unit moved in closer and closer towards my position by the time I made the first punch. My right hook collided with one of the soldier's throat and swiftly transitioned my elbow to another one in between the ribs. But all of that did not matter, my attacks took little effect as they soon surround me, putting me in a lock hold position, hands bound behind my back and dragging me away from the room. I can feel my heartbeat pulsating in my throat while I struggle to break free. Who the fuck are these people? What do they want with me? I don't want this. I'm scared.

"CARLOS!"

His name was the last thing that left my lips before the hooded squad inject my system with some form of liquid. My eyelids grew heavy, I fought back to keep myself awake but alas, the shroud of darkness consumes my mind, taking my soul to a distant world. The next time I wake up, the doors to the pandora's box had already open and it's already too late for me to stop it.

The snickering and one-sided conversation waver into my ear. I can't shift my body, still situated in darkness along with the effect of the drug. The icy metal clasp my limbs tight cemented on either side of my body and unable to produce any strength. The noises stopped and I froze like a deer in the headlights.

"Ah...you're awake. Good, good." The man sneered and carry on muttering in an absence. "You know, I was surprised by your...actions. You all exceeded my expectations. With this data you provided, we could improve on the flaws with our last experiment." He chuckled. "For now, my child, sleep. When you wake up, you'll be born anew again." His words became a slur in my brain, lowering into a hushed tone. Phrases repeat and distorting, just like an echo in an ice cave, cold and enchanting before my conscious slips away once more.

------------------------

"WHAT HAPPENED? HEY, COME IN. HEY!" The statics over on the other line holds its place. "FUCK!" Carlos's voice howls, the thunderous boom stunned the remaining of his teammates. His fists clenched in a fit of rage as he smashes the radio onto the bloodied floor. The radio explodes with shards flying across the hall, some splinters still clinging onto his hand.

"Carlos...umph..." Tyrell struggles, limping its way towards him as he compresses his wound. "The mutated monster...the lights and the locked gate...I don't think it's that simple." he sighs, pushing his glasses back up with his forefinger. "There's only one company that would create such a big experiment. Carlos, listen...you need to stop them."

Carlos shifts to look at him. "T, we still have to meet up with Bravo and we've already lost half of our men. There's no prediction of what's roaming out there."

Tyrell shakes his head, a stern look in his eyes. "No...You've seen what they are capable of, there's no saying what Umbrella might do to next. Go rescue them, I'll handle the rest." He waves him away, still clenched in pain but casually shrugs it off. Carlos conflicted for a short period but ultimately chose to listen to Tyrell. Tyrell gave him a quick pat on his shoulder before Carlos turns away.

[Umbrella's research facility]

The eerie sound of silence fills the whole facility. A silence that stayed constant in your ears, just like the tv sign-off tone. The uneasy feeling never left Carlos's mind as soon as he traverses through the isolated building, gun in position. Walls dressed in white, the distinctive chill in the air and corridors that lead to nowhere. Carlos grew impatient by the minute.

There, at the end of the hallway, lays a door just barely visible for the naked eye. 'Security Room, EMPLOYEES ONLY'. He breaches in; a vast space all clustered with fallen chairs and paperwork, the multiple screens project different rooms within the facility, some looked like its the cafeteria and another resembles a cool storage room with weird pieces of machinery scattered around the place. Yet they are all empty, except one. At the top left-hand corner of the display box, it presents various aqua chambers containing partially mutated humans and failed experiments. And in the centre of that screen, he saw his companion positioned upright on a surgical bed, unconscious and all tied up. But getting there might be difficult without putting up a fight as four heavily armed mercs all gathered outside of the laboratory. Carlos unclips his assault rifle and peeks, the ammunition is barely enough to fight four soldiers; hell, not even four zombies. At this point, every shot counts.

The build-up of sweat in his palm loosened his grip. He examines his hand; trembling and numb with uncertainty, what lies between him and his enemies is just one simple electronic door. Beyond that, someone important is there waiting for him, alive and afraid. Or perhaps they...no. That couldn't possibly be the case. He clutches the handle once more, on the count of three breaths, he bursts in. It only took a split second for bullets to fly across the room, landing hits in the enemies' calves and forearms. Carlos moves in closer before they could react, instantly killing a soldier with one shot under the jaw as blood and plasma spew out onto the ceiling. They return fire, only to hit their ex-partner's lifeless corpse. Carlos thrusts the body towards the two henchmen and staggers them to the ground, he flips; locking the remaining guy pressed up the wall with his entire body, they struggle but was immediately executed with a blow to the head. Blood splattered on Carlos's right shoulder but that didn't faze him. The sound of his assault rifle clicks empty as he saw the two crawling back up. "Tch." His tongue snapped as the gun launched across the room at a high velocity, knocking one in the face and stumbling backwards. Like a chain of effect, they’ve sprawled out on the floor once again. Stepping his right foot on their torso, his gaze shows pity as he ponders over them before pulling out his pistol from the holster.

"Hope you got friends on the other side."

BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! The aftermath of those four shots lingers in the room. A mixture of gunpowder and blood made Carlos's stomach twist up in a knot, but he got more important things to worry about. The life of his partner was the only thing that occupied his mind. The final door slides open; revealing a skinny, middle-aged looking man in a fresh set of lab coat, stood in front of a worktable and unaware of his presence. Inside, those hydro chambers stood twice his height with flesh substance floating inside the liquid. Some are just a blob of meat and others have fully transformed into somewhat human-shaped, but all are deformed. Upon closer inspection, one mutated monster's eye pop open. Carlos flinched. He examined around and was shocked to find that they are alive, all of them. What kind of sick joke is this? Is this what I've been fighting? He wondered.

"Admiring my creations, I see. Do you like it?" The man asked.

"Is this what's been running the city into a shitshow? What the fuck is this pharmaceutical company hiding?" He looks around. "Where are they?"

"Ah, yes! My precious little plaything. You're just in time to witness the beginning of my newest creation." The man chuckles, he pressed a button and the sound of machinery begins to whir. The glass cell shifts closer into the room, unveiling you in a comatose state, pretty as a picture. "They are sedated, for now. But soon, they will become humanity’s greatest invention and you will be the first one to witness it. Isn't that something?"

The blood inside him boils; the rage within could not be contained, white-hot magma erupting and coating every strain in his system. He pulled the trigger; the shots punctured through both of the man's legs as he knelt on the floor, screaming in agony. Carlos rushed to your side, unclasping any restrictions and carefully let you lean against the wall.

"Heh...what will you achieve by saving them...? The city's gone rogue...everybody's dead...and yet you couldn't save half your men. So...why bother saving them...the end is nigh!" His manic amusement shakes the whole room to the ground. But, the laughter was cut short and soon, it has been replaced by the clinking of a bullet shell against the hard deck and empty clickings. Gun drops as he struts towards the pathetic slob, straggling in the crimson liquid that's supposed to keep him alive. Well, not anymore. Carlos straddles on top of his weakened body, gaze bore into his soul. He wondered. How could someone like him still be alive? As the world burns and he gets to live? The ability to heal given to this monster and yet, he chose destruction. He must be purged.

The sound of his leather gloves creek as it made the first impact. The feeling of bone to bone seems odd to Carlos but...it excites him. With each hit, the pain pushes him even further, numbing and bruising. It felt right. He pants, the blood spews and paints him in a new shade of violence. The man weakly chuckles.

"The man who fights monsters have become a monster himself. Isn't that irony...?" He coughs, blood spilling out on the edge of his lips.

"Killing humans...how does that feel? Still want to play the hero and save them? With the world on fire and all those lives in your hands...you will only taint them. Lemme tell you a story...do you know what kind of flower blooms the brightest even in the harshest weathers?" Carlos looks at him quizzically.

"Snowdrops. They are the first ones to bloom long before spring comes around...the pure and innocent. At the beginning of time, Snow searched for a colour to borrow... The element admired flowers and their vibrant colours. One day, Snow asked and pleaded for one of the colours from the flowers, but the blossoms denied Snow's request; they felt Snow was too cold and undesirable. The snowdrop, however, felt sorry for Snow and offered it its own colour. It accepted the gift and the element itself became as white as an angel's feathers... To show its gratitude, Snow allowed snowdrops to bloom at the end of each winter with their own protection against the blizzard weather. From then on, Snow and snowdrops exist side-by-side as friends."

He heaves. "Like I said...irony... Their friendship is only a fabrication out of pity. Just like you!" The deathly cackle roams as he chokes on his own spit and blood.

Ears buzzed with white silence, his visions hazed with a red lens filter and heart palpate at an abnormal speed. Carlos felt every ridge of the handle on his knife and takes out his weapon, unhurried. The shiny metal pressed upon the wilting man's oesophagus- with only a little strength, it opened up. Blood spatter across Carlo's face, unflinching. His eyes darkened, tunnel vision focused on the crevice of the wound; there's friction on the thin layer of skin as the sharp edge glides slowly from one end of the neck to another. Carlos finishing him off with a fling of his blade, scattering red all over the wall. Both of his hands grip the handle tight; rising it high above his head, he paused for a moment to look at him one last time, then strikes down into the man's right chest in the speed of light. Pulverising his cardiac organ. He retrieves the knife and repeats over and over again with the red fluid gushes out with each stab until there is nothing left. A monster bathed in his enemy's blood. The man croaks in agony and over a few seconds, it stops. And so does Carlos.

The white noise has been replaced by his own rapid breathing. Thoughts are empty, his gaze quivers yet, he does not fear anything. He felt it...warmth. How did he not notice it? Is this how warm humans feel? He never realised this, this kind of feeling, it's something so different from killing a zombie. He looks down at his own two hands...so red. A smile crept along his face with the feeling of content. In a spark, he burst into a peal of harrowing laughter, vibrating the whole room.

"Carlos...What happened to you?"

------------------------------

In my moments of wake, I find myself bestowing my gaze upon a beast gazing back at me with a musing look in his eyes. They're so dark and dire, almost like someone gouged out a part of him and replaced it with something so sinister. He snaps, now truly looking at me through the eyes of the actual Carlos, as if nothing happened.

"You're awake! Good, I was starting to get worried about you. We should probably leave and catch up with Tyrell. They should've called for the extraction by now." Placing his tarnished knife back into the holster, he made his way towards me. My fear of him vanished, he's just like the Carlos I met a few hours ago. Warm and caring. "Let's go." He said, both his arms shifts under my back and behind my knees, picking my weight up with ease. "Get some rest...I wake you up when went get to the rendezvous point." His voice is hushed and the sound of his heartbeat soothes out all my stress. By the time we left the room, I was already drifting between dreamworld and reality.

The sound of his footstep was kept at a constant pace, his movement rocked me side to side, gently without missing a beat. But the further he tread, the temperature in the air got colder and yet I could not feel the wind brushing against me.

"Stay here. I'm gonna fix something real quick." Carlos's body heat left my side and was replaced by the icy touch of a piece of furniture. The mechanical hum occupied my eardrums and everything sound muffled once again. Eyes weakly opened and the sight wasn't what I was expecting. What greets me was four walls made of glass entrapping my body as he stood and watched.

"Carlos...what are you doing? Let me out. Come on...this isn't funny, Carlos. Let me out of here!" I begged.

He shook his head, resting a hand on the glass in front of me, looking at me longingly. "I can't." His words were breathless.

"Why?"

"I made you a promise. And this is the only way for me to protect you...You would be safer here, nothing can hurt you." His thumb grazes something small in his palm. I looked up and saw a room that was surrounded by pieces of machinery and nitrogen tanks, placed accordingly in rows of four. Then, it hit me.

"Don't do this..." I cried. But, it was too late. His thumb clicked on the small device in his hand and soon, a strain of gas misted out from the tubings and masking the entirety of the glass cell, leaving me dazed and numbed as I crawl back to the shivering nothingness.

"I'm sorry...I promise I'll come back for you." His empty words circulated in my ears and through the air as he walked away, leaving me in the darkest den of Umbrella. Cold, afraid and alone; frozen in time without anybody knowing.

And there I was, still as a landscape; living on top on a snowy mountain at the beginning of Spring, as pale as Death herself. Bidding my farewell to him until next Winter comes; when a blanket of snow tops the upside of the greeneries and then, we shall meet again.

[kat-hawke]

Sequestered

(Immediately following [Near & Far] & [Threads])

Ethereal fingers continued to pluck each mental string until the elf Kat sought cautiously responded. 'Why do you seek me now?' Seraanna's words echoed in the vacant meditative mind, narrowing the search as the thread sparked with like, provided the anchor for connection. Kat's focus shifted to the single point as she grasped at the nexus and pulled them together across the mental gap. Her eyes opened as the breath was sucked from her lungs to find herself standing inches away from the manifestation of the Ren'dorei who answered.

"To ask something of you," Kat answered, guarded. Here in the artificial reality, her accent was absent. Here, she was presented as her own perception, the speech normal to her ears, and projected as such. But the empty expanse behind her failed to hide the truth; Shadow and Light shifted like the ocean upon the shore, each side pushing and receding in rhythm.

The mindscape behind the Ren'dorei revealed an equal truth of the woman's will and shape; Shadow gathered bound yet untamed. A sight that spurred envy to mix with remorse in Kat's very core.

"I have offered words to you before," Seraanna murmured with a gentle tilt of her head, voice still soft here but no longer halting, "and given respect to the disdain shown within the Forge of Iron." A slow breath's pause. "What would you ask?"

"I don't particularly care for those who intrude my mind without invitation," Kat responded in monotone as she briefly inspected the mindscape behind the elf before turning away and walking four steps with hands collected behind her back. 

"There is an individual hiding somewhere in the kingdom." With a wave of one hand, a map of the lands outlying Stormwind was conjured with ease. The manipulation of this mindscape was second nature to Kat after so many years and many other connections. "A necromancer, in fact. Over the years, he has gained the name 'The Renovator'. Likely in league with the Cult of the Damned during this chaotic invasion." Slowly, her gaze turned back to Seraanna. "I'd ask you to find where exactly the menace is."

"Intrude?" Seraanna inquired as she took languid steps to close the distance, the right hand clasped loosely in the left and the thumb rubbed absently over the palm as she arrived at Kat's side. "At most, it was that I borrowed your sight. But of your thoughts, your - integrity? Of those, there was no invasion." Her dark lips were pulled by a quiet smile, "What you term intrusion was little more than a conversation overheard." 

"One needs earn my enmity to experience intrusion, and you have long been absent of my own Sight. No opportunity," Seraanna mused, "to earn enmity, or - to gain the trust of a request." She turned her attention, unhurried, towards the conjured map. "Why, then, ought I do this thing for you?"

"Don't think of it as for me, then," Kat replied. "Look at it more as, for the people. Friends or family, loved ones, or those tucked away in quiet graves. The Scourge holds no biases, and neither does the man who digs up the bodies to create the fiends." 

With a twist of her wrist, the Director conjured a plush and ornate chair of Gilnean make, grays and golds. She dropped into the seat with grace to face the elf, one knee hooking over the other—an unnecessary display of her skill within the artificial reality.

"I'm not a stranger to this." She motioned to the vast mindscape. "Though our abilities run parallel in some regard, they differ in others. I, for example, cannot borrow one's sight or mind. Not without an established anchor or catalyst. Memories, however. Those I can pull apart and manipulate at the touch as if weaving a blanket. I do not have the time to wade through the myriad of truths and lies the darkness will present me to find the one where this monster truly is."

Seraanna settled backward with a slow exhale. Plumes of shadows rolled up and gathered as if to catch her, only to fade as she came to rest in an overstuffed armchair embroidered in red and gold. 

"More plain-spoken," she quietly mused, regarding the Director, "than I had thought to expect of you." 

The Ren'dorei turned her hands, gaze falling to a ring on her left index finger - rough silver set almost randomly with several small stones. "I am of Quel'thalas, lest you forget, and more than intimate with what the Scourge may do." Her finger grazed lightly over the ring before she looked at Kat.

"There is a time and place for more elaborate and riddle-like wording, but quite frankly, I find myself too exhausted to dance around the points at this very moment." Kat's reply came without emotion. "And no, I did not forget where your breed hails from." 

"Provide me with three things, if you would see this done." Seraanna continued as their eyes met. "All that you know of this Renovator, that I might discern his presence. Sanctuary for the task, for this, is no simple casting of my Sight within Stormwind's walls. And last...?" 

"State how I ought name you." A soft smile pulled at the elf's lips. "You, and not any position or title that adheres."

Kat's hands collected in her lap, slowly folding over one another as Seraanna listed her demands, the final of which elicited a narrowed gaze. She expected an accord, payment, or a favor, but to identify herself now left the Director agitated. The usual escapes to the answer were carefully blocked off in the elf's requests, clever yet bothersome.

"Unfortunately, for us both, the knowledge is rather lacking. But, very well..." Without a single movement, Kat willed a table into existence, a folder laid face down upon its surface. A key made of wrought iron appeared beside the paper. "You must destroy that after our business is concluded, both in fact. Though the key has limited uses, tear open the void with it in hand, over half a dozen candles. You will find your sanctuary." 

"As for a name..." She trailed off, flattening her lips. "Wise to state you do not want a title or position. Puts me in a corner, no? Yet you never offer your own."

"Neither have you so offered, yet it is that I have asked." The Ren'dorei remained in her chair of red and gold, legs curled beneath her, no move made to reach for the items brought into being. "Like will be given for like," came the soft murmur, "I give you that assurance."

"Very well," Kat muttered as she drew a deep breath. "Friends call me Kat, and though we are far from such a prospect, it will do all the same."

"...like for like..." The elf sounded.

"Seraanna." After a brief pause, she spoke in a more precise tone before reaching a hand for the folder and wrought iron key upon the table. "Those with familiarity often use Seraa, and some few," the faint smile remained on her dark-painted lips, "name me the Paper Lady." 

Turning and twisting the other hand Seraanna clenched a fist for a split second as a wisp of shadow toiled around the flesh. Opening her palm out to the Director, the elf presented a slick, glossy sphere perhaps twice a marble's size. The dark between the stars ebbed within.

"Take this, and hold it close to your memory of me. For each of us, it will be the anchor of which you speak. When our - business is concluded? Cast it from your thoughts as you wish."

Slowly wetting her lips, Kat reached for the offered anchor, plucking it from the elf's palm with two fingers. A circumspect gaze examined the object, and the churning darkness within as Seraanna sank back into the plush ornate seat.

"And if you find that it pleases you? Then, dear Kat, keep it near."

"You may overestimate or assume how my power or vessel operates, but very well." Kat tucked the curio into her blazer pocket and glanced to her left hand, a glass of whiskey neat conjured in the wisps of shadows, and while nothing here was a reality, Kat indulged in her vice all the same. 

"Yours, I know not, but I know my own. Shadow of my own weaving, held close to the memory of me, is anchor enough for words. This," Seraanna gestured vaguely to encompassed the mindscape and their seating, "would require greater."

"Anything else?" Kat inquired without eye contact, watching the amber liquor swirl within the glass vessel.

The elf's half-lidded gaze left the Director, diverting to the map first conjured, of the lands outlying Stormwind. "I will search for your Renovator, then, from the sanctuary, you have offered. And give you word when I know of him."

"Is there aught else that you wish?" Seraanna echoed.

The faintest hint of a smile graced the corner of Kat's lips as her fingers drummed slowly on the whiskey glass before it melted away in shadow. She stood and smoothed wrinkles that did not exist from the end of her jacket, fixating on correcting the sleeve cuffs as she addressed the elf in front of her.

"Once finished with the sanctuary, remove every trace of its existence from your memory." 

The chair behind her legs was next to dissolve in plumes of gray smoke as the demand was given. The expressionless visage of the Director cast in the Ren'dorei's direction as their connection to one another was severed.

Again, Kat opened her eyes. She was seated in the snow, overlooking the roaring sea at the cliff base, the faint orange glow of the burning city in the distance. Fixating on the distant stars, she pondered over the level of trust she was bestowed in the elf, for the sanctuary offered tethered her to a remote island, a secret kept for years.

Instinctively, gloved fingertips grazed the hilt of the soul-bound dagger on her thigh. Any future actions could be justified, should she need.

[ @longveil​ ]

( [pt.I] [pt.II] [pt.III] [pt.IV] [pt.V] [pt.VI] [pt.VII] )

[risingmoonyue]

The “Conan is Shinichi” Issue

So, a lot of people are frustrated that no one seems to be able to figure out that Conan is Shinichi.

Personally, I’ve never really had a problem with this. I’ve always found it to be perfectly logical that’s no one figures it out.

Here’s the thing: it’s completely realistic that no one realizes.

Even if he tends to act like “Shinichi”, looks like him, and is (almost) never in the same room as Shinichi, it’s still reasonable that no one puts the pieces together.

Y’see, the thing is, if you hadn’t seen your friend in a while (one that has a more or less excuse to be away long periods of time), and suddenly a tiny child shows up and acts a lot like him, your first thought isn’t going to be crap my friend shrunk on me. That won’t even be your second, fifth, or twentieth thought unless you’re joking around or highly superstitious. Realistically, your first thought is going to be along the lines of this is a really freaky coincidence. The reason most people will brush off the thought of shrunk is that shrinking is, in the minds of those people, impossible.

“But Yue, shrinking very clearly isn’t impossible in the DCMK universe! And there are people who have figured it out there! What about them?!”

To answer those questions in order—most people believe it is, and those have all (at least peripherally) been given reasons for their belief,

In that universe, shrinking isn’t exactly common, even if it seems like it’s a really, really obvious condition considering we’re reading/watching from the perspective of Shinichi. In that universe, Shinichi and the readers have fully acknowledged and comprehended for the most part that shrinking is a truth, a possibility, a reality. Now, every time we watch another person not get it, we’re watching as people who have been in the know from the very beginning. In other words, we are being affected by a kind of hindsight bias.

Hindsight bias is a term in psychology that refers to the tendency for people to overestimate their own abilities and to perceive events in the past as more predictable than they actually were—also known as the “I-knew-it-all-along” syndrome. The reason I bring this up is because we are all seriously overestimating the uninformed mind. While many people are open to beliefs, to them seeing is believing. People thought the earth was flat because they cannot see the earth’s curve—it is so large that everything in our field of view appears flat. People thought the sun rotated around the earth because it rose in the east and set in the west, while we seemingly didn’t move at all. Things like that happen all the time. While it seems obvious to us, the readers/watchers who have all the information, it is not nearly so obvious to outsiders, who really only see a really smart, kinda creepy seven year old who gives emotional whiplash and watches too much TV.

Plato’s allegory of the cave can also be applied here: without the knowledge of the “outside,” it becomes impossible to imagine a world beyond your “cave.”

Basically, they’ve never seen a real shrunken person; science hasn’t figured it out yet; people grow taller and wider and only shrink a few inches in old age; never happened in recorded history; therefore shrinking ten years is impossible. Which, let's be real, in the real world it is.

Moving on to the people “in the know” (or almost in the know), they have all been given reasons, if peripherally, for believing so.

(If you don’t know how these people know, I’m bolding all the names as they pop up so you can skip them as wanted.)

In Ran and Hattori’s case, they both are shown to be open-minded to the unexplainable. Ran is outright afraid of the supernatural, and Hattori keeps his omamori and listens to his vaguely prophetic dreams (chapters 185-188/episode 118). While the omamori can be argued as sentiment and not wanting to anger Kazuha, he also gives said omamori to Conan when they have to separate, saving his life later when the chain inside catches on the knife stabbed at Conan like he dreamed. In both cases, they are both willing to see what might be there instead of completely waving it off as “false” (even if it takes a few times).

For Ran, she actually has figured it out on several occasions (even attributing the shrinkage to Agasa once), but was provided a logical, easy to see explanation for why Conan looks and acts like Shinichi, even if it seems a little too good to be true—they are related, however distantly, and Conan admires Shinichi.

People develop through both Nature and Nurture—in other words, both via genes and their environment. Genes are endlessly complicated, sometimes coming into effect generations down the line, and kids can pick up almost anything from their surroundings. Heck, some genes are affected by the environment they’re placed in. Some of the most obvious ones are behavioral—take alcoholism for example. If alcoholism runs in the family, putting yourself or a child in an environment where you/they will be able to decide not to can in turn make it so that gene never comes into play. (Think just abstaining from alcohol altogether as you grow to be of drinking age.)

So we take into consideration that they may have gotten really lucky in the gene pool (there have been instances of doppelgängers not being related for over nine generations), and that in their story Shinichi was around Conan enough for him to start admiring him and learning things from him, and suddenly we have a reasonable explanation of why Ran would accept that explanation. Heck, Shinichi already has a double in Kaito, why not one more (admittedly fake) clone?

For Hattori, he was never really given that explanation as far as I know, only that Conan was a kid that was staying with the Mouri family while Shinichi was gone. Now, take in his open mindedness, his detective skills, and his first-hand experience of how “Sleeping Kogoro” happens, and we know how he puts two and two together. He is even willing to run his theory by Ran, forcing Conan to confirm it to stop Hattori from blowing his cover. Basically, he adhered to the basic scientific process—form a question, make a hypothesis, test it.

For Agasa, he actually didn’t believe at first. Shinichi had to prove without a shadow of a doubt that he was Shinichi, saying things no one else would know and putting on a characteristic deduction show while blatantly showing off some of his “Shinichi” habits (peace sign, facial expressions, freaky deduction of exactly what Agasa did that afternoon, calling Agasa “Watson”). Agasa has also known Shinichi his whole life, and is a “mad scientist” archetype. He makes it his job to make weird, wacky things.

For Haibara, she made the APTX. In the First Episode Movie, we see in her experiments that one of the mice shrinks. She knows this is possible, and is even experiencing the effects herself. She doesn't need anything else to prove it because she already knows it is a truth. With this knowledge, it’s really easy to put it together. She even checked the Kudo household and found the box of Shinichi’s childhood clothes empty, and later ended up with Agasa, who obviously knows everything.

For Kaito KID in the Movie Verse (as that is, as far as I know, the only confirmed verse where he actually knows), he overheard Agasa calling Conan “Shinichi” over the phone. In Magic Kaito, we see that Kaito actually has a witch as a classmate, who has continuously tried to use magic on him. He knows this exists, so he is already much, much more open to impossibilities. He knows more than a lot of other people just how smart Conan is, and also knows that any time he disguises as “Shinichi”, Conan immediately figures him out.

Really, there are even more people who know who “Conan” is, but I think we get the picture. People have reasons for believing that Conan is Shinichi, and while they are not explicitly stated in canon, they are there.

So yeah, that’s my blurb on the whole Conan/Shinichi issue, thank you for coming to my TED Talk. What are your guys’ thoughts?

[thedaughterofkings]

Hypothermia

Written for @sterekweek2019​ Day 3: Outdoors!

“This was a shitty idea,” Stiles mutters. His teeth chattering is the only reaction he gets.

Then of course it had been Jackson’s idea, so really, Stiles should have known better than to let himself be goaded into this.

This being spending a night in the preserve, alone, without a fire or any other means of keeping warm.

Stiles has seriously underestimated how cold it gets at night out here.

And he has severely overestimated how well he knows the preserve.

In the search for some place that would offer him at least a little shelter if not some warmth, he has gone too far off the paths and is now completely and utterly lost. At least Scott knows where he is - roughly - so if Stiles doesn’t make it to school on Monday, he’ll sound the alarm.

Because yes, Stiles was extra dumb and decided to do this on a Friday night, telling his dad he was staying with Scott and not telling Scott as much. If he had told Scott, Scott would have wanted to come along - his need to prove himself might even outdo Stiles’ own feelings of inadequacy and he wouldn’t have wanted Stiles to be alone either way, but Stiles might be dumb (as evidenced by his current predicament), but he’s not dumb enough to take his best friend with severe asthma into the woods in the middle of the night to get lost and die.

That’s certainly what it feels like right now. He’s so cold that he can’t feel his toes anymore and some of his fingers have lost their feeling as well. If he remembers his biology lessons correctly, the next to go are his ears and then he’ll lose his nose. That will really make Lydia look at him. 

A strange sound makes him jump. It almost sounded like a howl, but there haven’t been any wolves in California for almost a hundred years, so it must have just been the wind. Still, Stiles tries to step extra lightly as he continues walking. He has decided to forgo looking for shelter - keeping awake and moving seems to be his best bet now, even though he has no idea where he’s going. When the sun comes up again, he’s going to choose a cardinal direction and go that way, but for now he goes where the forest leads him - along the path of the least resistance. 

Nevermind the road less travelled - if Stiles wants to get out of here without a broken neck he’s going to follow whatever paths he can find in the darkness. This one seems to be well used - not by humans, but by something big nevertheless, probably deer.

‘Or wolves,’ his brain helpfully suggests and Stiles scoffs out loud. The sound echoes through the silent trees and Stiles comes to a stop immediately, chiding himself internally. There might not be any wolves in these woods, but that doesn’t mean nothing here could harm Stiles. Over the last few years, the reports of mountain lions have become more frequent for example. 

When nothing attacks him, Stiles slowly starts to move again, starting with a full body shiver. He should have at least worn a thicker sweater. 

Under his feet, leaves crunch with every step, despite Stiles’ best efforts to tread lightly. He strains his ears to hear any noise above the one he makes himself, but the woods are silent around him.

Too silent.

The thought has only just crossed his mind when a dark shadow jumps out of the underbrush and Stiles stumbles backwards with a scream. He catches a glimpse of white fangs and electric blue eyes and then his head smacks against a tree and he knows no more.

~*~

Warm fur and then suddenly warm skin. 

Stiles slowly forces his eyes open and comes face to, well, not face, but very well developed pecs. 

“Oh, Derek, what did you do?” asks a woman and then Stiles can’t keep his eyes open anymore. The last thing he feels before oblivion takes him again is a hand curving around his head and the headache that had pounded there dissipating. 

~*~

The next time Stiles wakes up, it’s slowly. The first thing he notices is how warm he is. He stays in that half state between asleep and awake for a while, keeping his eyes firmly closed and his brain firmly shut off.

At least until a female voice says: “Wakey, wakey, sleeping beauty!”

Stiles grunts and then slowly opens his eyes, squinting carefully until his eyes have adjusted to the low, flickering light the campfire next to him gives off. Across from him sits a woman - a very naked woman.

Stiles slams his eyes shut again.

“Am I dead?” he asks and the woman snorts.

“Not yet, but we can remedy that, if you want to.”

Behind him, Stiles’ warm pillow huffs and he jerks upwards with a gasp, eyes wide open again. Curled around him is a huge, black wolf and Stiles suddenly realises why he’s so comfortably warm. 

“Oh shush, Derek, you know I was just joking,” the woman says - to the wolf apparently, who huffs again and then shifts until its head is on Stiles’ lap. Stiles freezes and suddenly doesn’t know where to put his hands.

“He likes to have his ears scratched,” the woman supplies helpfully and Stiles grimaces at her wildly. He’d add in a few choice gestures, but he is half-convinced he’s going to get his hands bitten off - or worse any second now, so quick movements are out for the moment.

“Please, he’s a total teddy bear,” the woman scoffs, and then adds, again directed at the wolf: “Aren’t you, Derbear?”

That provokes another snarl from the wolf and Stiles has to concentrate really hard to keep his breathing somewhat calm and even when faced with so many teeth near his crotch. 

“Who the hell are you?” he hisses, and then adds, almost despite himself: “There are no wolves in California!”

It sounds desperate even to his own ears.

“You aren’t wrong there,” the woman says, smiling serenely. “But we’re not just wolves, so I guess the statistics still work. Werewolves do so seldomly turn up in those.”

“You’re what?” Stiles gasps and the woman blinks and upon opening her eyes again, they suddenly burn bright red. 

“Werewolves,” she repeats and then gestures to Stiles’ cuddle partner. “That’s Derek and I’m Laura. Now who are you and what were you doing that far into the preserve in the middle of the night?”

But Stiles barely even hears her anymore. Those names ring a bell, a strong one. He’s sure he’s heard them before, that he knows them, but it takes a moment until his brain offers up an explanation.

“Laura and Derek? Not Laura and Derek Hale? You should be dead!”

“Werewolves,” Laura says with a shrug, as though that should be explanation enough, and Stiles guesses it is. 

“Wait, was your family killed by werewolves? Is that how you got bitten? Did you kill them?” Stiles asks, his question almost tumbling one over the other as his heart speeds up at the thought that he might be alone with two murderers. Next to him, Derek growls and Stiles’ heart attempts to beat out of his chest.

“No!” Laura insists, looking rattled for the first time since Stiles woke up. “We weren’t bitten, we were born this way into a family of werewolves and hunters burnt the rest of us alive just for the crime of having been born!”

Stiles gapes at her. Hunters? There had been rumours that the Hale fire hadn’t been entirely accidental, but his dad had always assured him there had been no hard evidence for that, and the arson specialist had ruled it an accident anyways. But if what Laura has said is true, then it was murder. Premeditated, cold blooded murder. 

While his brain is running wild with possible scenarios, Stiles watches silently as Laura visibly controls herself, taking deep breaths until she is calm and smiling again.

“But enough about us, who are you, stranger?” she asks and although there’s a smile on her face, Stiles can’t help but think that if he answers this one wrong, he’s really going to be in hot water. Now if he only knew what the wrong answer was!

In the end he goes with the truth - who knows what kind of abilities a werewolf has! Perhaps she can smell when he’s lying.

“I’m Stiles,” he says. “Stiles Stilinski. My dad’s the Sheriff.”

He doesn’t add anything else, but Laura’s raised eyebrow and Derek’s huff show that the implied threat has been received loud and clear.

“And what were you doing in the middle of the preserve in the middle of the night, oh son of the Sheriff?” Laura asks, eyes twinkling and Stiles blushes. 

“I - it was a dare,” he admits after a moment of hesitation. “And then I got lost. And then someone jumped me and knocked me out. At least I’m not dying of hypothermia anymore.”

There’s some movement next to him and when Stiles turns, he comes face to face with a very naked Derek Hale, who is glaring at him. 

“I did not jump you,” he says and Stiles squawks. 

“You so did! I thought you were going to kill me! I saw my life pass before my eyes!”

“Can’t have taken long, what are you, twelve?”

“I’m seventeen!” Stiles insists and has to admit, sounds rather like a twelve year old while doing so. Derek seems to think so, too, because a smile plays at the corner of his mouth. Stiles tries to remain appropriately outraged, but this entire situation is too ridiculous and he starts giggling. There’s a certain amount of hysteria in his laughter, but that slowly dissipates, leaving just pure hilarity behind, especially once Derek and finally Laura start laughing, too.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” Derek apologises once they’ve all calmed down again. “I mean, I did want to scare you, scare you away from our den, but I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“And instead of keeping me out of your den, you brought me into it.” Stiles shakes his head mockingly. “You are a total failwolf, aren’t you?”

“I’ll show you failwolf,” Derek threatens and snarls at Stiles. It’s obviously playful rather than truly threatening, but Stiles still gulps. Those fangs look very sharp. 

“Speaking of injuries,” Laura interjects and Stiles guiltily looks back at her. He’d completely forgotten her presence. There’s a twinkle in her eyes that says she noticed as much and Stiles feels his cheeks heating up again. Next to him Derek shifts, but Stiles studiously avoids looking at him. “How are you feeling, Stiles? No headache or anything?”

“No, I’m actually feeling fine.” Stiles is surprised himself; sure, there are some scrapes and aches, but nothing really concerning. 

“I’m glad,” Derek says and sounds honestly relieved. Stiles smiles at him and they just sit there grinning dumbly at each other until Laura clears her throat.

“I’m sorry, but we have to talk about what we are going to do now.” 

If that doesn’t sound ominous.

“If killing me because I now know your secret, I strongly object,” Stiles says and Laura rolls her eyes.

“No one’s killing anyone here, seriously, Stiles. I’m a werewolf not a rabid lap dog! No, I’m talking about how you’re going to get home and what that means for us.”

“Do you not know the way back to Beacon Hills either?” Stiles asks before his brain catches up. “Oh you mean because everyone thinks you are dead!”

Laura rolls her eyes again and Stiles sheepishly ducks his head. 

“You don’t need to worry about that, though,” he promises earnestly. “No one even knows I’m in the Preserve and definitely no one ever needs to know I got lost, so if you can just bring me close enough to Beacon Hills, I can find my way home without anyone ever having to see you or know about you. And I promise I won’t tell.” He hesitates and then adds:

“But if you want to return, I’ll help you with that. I’m sure my dad would be happy to help, too.”

Neither of the Hales says anything and Stiles bites his lips nervously. When the silence drags on for far too long, Stiles decides he might as well go all in and says: “I think you should consider it. You deserve more than just a cave in the woods. And well, also for a very selfish reason - I’d hate to keep trudging through the woods for hours to meet you.”

“You don’t want to run away screaming?” Derek asks and sounds honestly surprised, which frankly breaks Stiles’ heart. 

“God no! This is the coolest thing that has ever happened in my life! You guys are werewolves! That is so awesome! And I really like you, too, you both.” Stiles can feel his cheeks burning and he studiously avoids looking at either of them. Next to him Derek sits stock still, while Laura shifts opposite of them. Some silent conversation seems to be taking place, because after a short while, Laura finally speaks up:

“Thank you, Stiles, we’ll have to think about it. It’s - it’s not easy, but I promise we’ll talk about it and really consider it. And we really like you, too, both of us,” she adds, eyes twinkling. 

“How about I show you where I live and perhaps if you’re feeling up for it we can have a talk with my dad, and then, when you’re ready, you know where to go?” Stiles offers and is relieved when Laura nods. 

“That sounds like a plan,” she says and then grins, teasing: “But what is your dad going to say when he hears you invited the big bad wolf into your home, little red riding hood?”

“He certainly won’t go get his axe, if you’re worried about that,” Stiles retorts. “At least neither of you has asked me to crawl into your bed!”

“Yet,” Laura says and next to Stiles Derek falls into a fit of coughing. 

Stiles sighs and pounds on his back helpfully while glaring at Laura who is looking rather unapologetic. At least this is going to make a better story to tell the grandkids than dying of hypothermia. 

And it’s only just the beginning.

You can find all of my Sterekweek fics here!

More full shift Derek can be found here (feral Derek) and here (cuddly wolf Derek) and more Laura can be found for example here (Neckz'n'Throats AU), here (Stiles meets the Hales in NYC under very suspicious circumstances), and here (S1 if Peter never attacked Laura)

Happy reading!

[screamingatanemptyroom]

Second Chance for a Super Villain’s Minion Part 4

Continuing a longer story! Hooray! 

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 can all be found here! 

Hope you guys enjoy. 

“I have plans.” Jack was laying on her workshop table, idly fiddling with one  of Abigail’s half-finished inventions.

“Hmm.” Abigail didn’t know what to say, she still felt nervous around Jack when they were alone, even after these several years of being his minion.

“I’ll get more and more people on my side, take over the country slowly. By the time they realize it, I’ll be in charge of everything.” He grinned, tossing the small metal object in the air and catching it.

She wrinkled her brows, confused. “How are you going to get them to your side?”

“I have a gift.” He laughed softly. “I can convince anyone, anywhere, that they need to join my team.”

“Sounds fake.”

“Coming from you that’s not too convincing.” He grinned at her. “Aren’t you on my side?”

Abigail blushed, hanging her head down and continuing to work on her invention.

“What’s that?” He sat up, pulling it from her hands.

“Hey…” She started to protest, but felt too uncomfortable to continue. “It’s a shielding ray, it will be able to block all sorts of projectiles and other deadly weapons.”

Jack studied it closer, now with more interest. “Really?”

“Yes, although it’s not finished yet.” She took it back, continuing to work on it.

“You’re the best, Abby! “ He hugged her tightly, causing her heart rate to increase. 

“What’s taking so long?” Jack’s irritated voice broke Abigail out of her memories. She smiled to herself, clutching the cell phone a little tighter.

“I’ve been at Infinity Tech for less than a month, idiot. Do you really think I can get my hands on sensitive information in that short of time?”

“…” He didn’t answer, but Abigail could feel his rage over the phone. She chuckled quietly, savoring the chance to talk back to him. In her previous life Jack had always been in control, always saying exactly what she wanted to hear when she needed to hear it. She had believed him without question, following him blindly.

But now…

“Well… if you don’t get something soon, this partnership is over!” His voice was frantic, unsure. Abigail’s smile widened.

“Alright then.”

“… what do you mean ‘alright’?!”

She shrugged, forgetting briefly that Jack wouldn’t be able to see the gesture over the phone. “I mean, if you don’t want to be partners, then fine. I never needed you.”

Those words felt so wonderful to say.

“I- YOU…F-fine. Take your time. Just get results… or else…”

“Or else what?” This was fun. She had never heard him so on edge.

“Or I’ll tell your new hero buddies who you’ve been talking with!”

“Really?” She couldn’t help it, she laughed out loud. “And why should they care that I’m talking to a nobody?”

“I won’t be a nobody for long, Abby. And then how will you explain these little “chats” of ours?”

She squeezed the phone so tightly she was surprised it didn’t snap in her hand.

“I’ve told you before. Call me “Abby” one more time and you’ll find out just how deadly having me as your enemy can be.”

“My threat still stands. Either you come up with something useful, or I’ll blow your cover. Tell me if- ”

Abigail hung up the phone, rolling her eyes. In her first lifetime she had hung on his every word, laughed at every joke, obsessed over every compliment.

Of course in that lifetime she hadn’t remembered what it felt like to die.

She thought over his threat to reveal her communications with him, her eyes narrowing as she reviewed her options.

Guess this means I go with plan C. She winced, not happy. Of course it always was the most certain plan to achieving my revenge… If only…

“Abigail?”

If only it hadn’t involved trusting HIM.  Sighing quietly Abigail blanked her expression and turned to face the newcomers.

“Ben.” She greeted her murderer from a previous lifetime, unable to summon enough energy to smile at him. A polite nod would have to do. He didn’t seem to mind, he responded with a bright smile, looking around her workshop with unbridled enthusiasm.

“Are we interrupting your work?” He asked, his eyes focusing on the metal object in her hands. Two men entered behind him, also glancing at her curiously.

“You’re fine, just tweaking a few things on the shielding ray.” She tossed it to him. “Check it out.”

Ben caught it, studying it for a brief moment before activating it, his whole body was surrounded with a bright blue beam of light. “Ooh, I like the quick activation time!” He turned to the young man on his right. “Hey Ronnie, shoot me!”

His friend, who Abigail vaguely recognized as a minor superhero with speed time powers, frowned at his suggestion. “That seems a little extreme, Ben. What if it doesn’t work?”

“That’s because you haven’t seen one of these things in action. Abigail’s work is amazing! Ben shook his head. “Come on, don’t be such baby. Shoot me!”

“No.” He turned to Abigail. “Would you do the honors?”

She didn’t bat an eye. “Sure.” She drew her gun, shooting him five times in the chest.

“ARE YOU CRAZY?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” Ronnie shouted, racing forward to take her gun away.

Not wanting him to touch her weapon, she tapped her wrist, firing a bright white beam from her bracelet, which froze him in place. It only lasted a few moments, but by the time he had broken free, Ben had stepped between them.

“Ronnie, buddy, I’m fine! The shielding ray worked perfectly. “ He turned towards Abigail with a slight frown. “Although could you maybe not enjoy shooting me quite so much?”

Abigail shrugged, “We all have our vices.” There was something cathartic about shooting the man who had murdered you, even if he had been drugged at the time and it had been in another life. It would be more abnormal if she didn’t enjoy it under those circumstances.

“Umm… I’m going to table to the whole ‘shooting me is your vice’ discussion to a later date. Let’s focus on the reason for being here: Ronnie, Zeke, what do you guys think of the shielding ray.”

Ronnie made a face. “Seems effective enough.”

The other young man, thin, tall with thick glasses and a seemingly permanent sneer on his face, merely snorted derisively and turned away. Abigail studied him a little closer, curious.

Zeke…don’t tell me… Z?!!

Z had been a famous inventor on the heroes side in her last life. He had invented multiple ingenious weapons, some so complex that she had developed a sort of grudging respect for him. They had been secret rivals on different sides, not only trying to out-invent the other, but frequently they would steal and upgrade the other’s designs as well.

Abigail couldn’t help but smile as she remembered the satisfaction of cracking Z’s blueprints and making his designs even better. At the time she had been mostly looking to impress Jack, but her secondary goal had been to piss off the hero inventor as well.

Ben sighed at the negative reaction from his friend. “Come on, Zeke, what didn’t you like? It worked perfectly.”

The sour faced man snorted again. “Yeah. Too perfectly.” Stomping up close to Abigail, he stuck a finger in his face. “There’s no way that you came up with that design on your own. Who helped you?!”

Abigail raised an eyebrow. “I helped myself.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Why is that?”

“Your barely grown. You’re what…. eighteen? Plus you’re… you’re…”

“A woman?” She suggested with a wry grin.

Zeke’s face reddened. “I WASN’T GOING TO SAY THAT! You haven’t even got a degree! How are you qualified to work here?!”

Abigail spread her hands. “I have a qualification.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s called: ‘I’m better at your job than you’.”

“YOU-“ He lunged forward, but was caught by Ben.

“Come on guys! No need to fight! We’re on the same team after all! Besides, Zeke, I wouldn’t underestimate her, I’ve seen her work.”

Zeke continued glaring at her. “It could be faked, I doubt she has any real ability.”

“Really?” Abigail laughed. “Then let’s try this.” She stretched out her arm, shooting him with the freezing ray. As he solidified into place, she stepped forward, searching his pockets.

“Abigail…” Ben warned her, although his eyes were laughing.

“Don’t worry, I just need to pick up…. this!” She lifted the weapon from his pocket successfully.

“The shockwave gun?” Ben looked confused.

“Yeah, give me three minutes.” She took it back to her workstation, quickly disassembling the weapon. It was a intricate piece of work, the attention to detail in the mechanism almost a work of art in itself. The first time she had seen it, it had taken her three days to understand how the weapon worked, and another week to improve upon the design. If she had gone head to head with Zeke in her last lifetime under a time crunch, she would have been hard pressed to win, as he simply just had more experience than her.

Of course, that was simply not the case anymore.

“Done.” She had overestimated. It had only taken her 2 minutes and thirty seconds. She pointed the weapon at a few test dummies in the corner.

BAM!

A shockwave went out, knocking over about half of the practice dummies.

Zeke rolled his eyes, still unable to move, while Ben looked unfazed. “It doesn’t really seem very different, sorry. “

Abigail grinned.

BAM! BAM BAM BAM BAM BAM!

The remainder of the mannequins fell under the rapid fire.

“You made it capable of multiple shots!” Ben was practically jumping up and down with excitement. Zeke had turned pale, his eyes wide with shock. Abigail felt a little bad about making it seem so easy to figure out and improve his design, but remembering his attitude on meeting her, decided it was probably good for him.

“Alright that’s enough playing for one day.” With a regretful look she unfroze Zeke, who without superpowers had been unable to free himself, and waved goodbye at them.

“THIS- this isn’t over!” With a shouted threat Zeke ran out, muttering about revamping all his designs.

“Not bad, newbie.” Ronnie nodded respectfully, before following his screaming friend out.

Ben grinned. “Thanks for the good time, Abigail. As always, your work is impeccable.” He turned to leave.

“WAIT.” Abigail called out, her voice cracking with nervousness. As he paused, looking at her with a curious expression, she cleared her throat uncomfortably and continued. “I have something I need to talk to you about.”

“Sure, but why so serious?” He chuckled.

Abigail stared at him silently for a few moments, before sighing. “I’m going to need to make tea.”

She brewed some tea, and sat down across from him, uncertain of how to start.

“Hey, you know you can tell me whatever is bothering you. I may not be able to help, but I can listen.” Ben reached out to touch her hand, but she shied away. She still didn’t like close contact with him. It brought back bad memories.

“What I’m about to tell you will seem unbelievable. You may think I’m a liar, may think I’m crazy, but every word of what I’m about to say is completely true.”

She took in a deep breath.

“In my last lifetime, you killed me.”

Starting from there she told him the whole story. Her previous life as a supervillain minion. The mission the distract him. Realizing he was drugged.

Dying at his hands.

When she mentioned waking up as an eight year old again, he blinked, seeming to think of something before his expression became blank once more. The remainder of the story didn’t take long.

“So I’m still keeping in contact with Jack, but I’ve switched sides, hoping to take him down this time.”

“… Is it solely for revenge?” He asked her, his eyes still strangely blank.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you think the only reason you were reborn was to take revenge?”

Abigail held up her hands in a helpless gesture. “I can’t think of any other reason for me to have a second chance like this. So the real question is, will you help me?”

Ben shook his head. “I won’t help you kill him. But it does seem like the world would be a better place with him behind bars. I help you with that.”

“It won’t be easy.” Abigail warned. “He has some sort of power over people. He can make anyone his ally. It’s why he was so successful as a super villain last time. “

“Do you have a plan?”

“I have several. It just depends on how he decides to move.”

“Okay.” Ben stood up. “I need to think all this through. Can we talk more tomorrow?”

Abigail stood up as well. “Sure.” She paused, reaching out to shake his hand. “Thanks for believing me.”

He shook it, seeming to sigh quietly. “No problem.”

With that he was gone.

Abigail sat back down, groaning. “I did it.”

She told Ben the truth.

And he believed her. She now had an ally, and Jack had lost his only piece of leverage. This time she would defeat him.  This time she would live.

The sensation of dying overwhelmed Abigail once more, and she huddled into her couch, rocking back and forth.

She could only hope that defeating Jack would finally let her heart be at ease.

Ben walked quickly down the hall, ignoring all the called out greetings from his fellow heroes and support staff. His only goal, all of his focus, was on getting back to his room as soon as possible.

It can’t be.

Even as he denied it in his heart, he knew Abigail was telling the truth. Her eyes as she described her own death… no human should have those eyes, least of all a young girl like her. The hopelessness as she described how in her previous life she had been used and discarded… it made him want to break something.

He knew she had been surprised at how easily he believed her story.

As he arrived in his room, he opened a secret compartment in the back of his closet, pulling out an ornate wooden box with a complicated lock. It had been a gift from his mother, who hadn’t been human. With shaking hands he slowly unlocked and opened it.

His heart stuck in his throat.

His mother had given him a present, a bright red glowing gem.

The Gem of Fate she had called it.

He could use it once and only once to change a fate, including his own if he so chose. It would be better not to ever use it though, as changing the fate of anyone could have terrible unexpected consequences. Heeding her warning, he had locked the gem away, never touching it, never even looking at it beyond the first time.

Yet here it was.

Resting quietly in the box where he had left it.

The glow long gone.

It had been used.

He never remembered using it, and it was impossible for anyone else to try to use it. Which could only mean one thing:

Abigail’s story was accurate. He had been drugged, and murdered her in cold blood.

He then used the stone to change her fate.

Idly, he wondered when the glow had faded from the stone in this lifetime. Mostly likely when she had returned as an eight-year-old girl. It could never be used again.

And she wondered why he believed her.

It’s because he knew exactly why she got a second chance. It hadn’t been for revenge, or to have her work with him against the man who trapped both of them.

“It was for you to live a happy life.” He whispered to himself. He didn’t remember activating the power, that version of himself was lost forever. But he knew he would have done exactly the same thing under those circumstances.

Let’s live well this second time, Abigail.

He sat down in the darkness of his room, staring at the now useless gem, his thoughts on all the different possibilities.

[notyourbaes-blog]

50 PSYCHOLOGY FACTS

1.) Research has found that good relationships are more important to a long life than exercise.

2.) Your brain does more creative work when you’re tired.

3.) Falling in love has a similar neurological effect as getting high on cocaine.

4.) Optimistic beliefs about the future can protect people from physical and mental illness.

5.) Holding hands with someone you love can alleviate physical pain as well as stress and fear.

6.) Volunteers are significantly more satisfied with their lives than non-volunteers.

7.) The risk of both catching a cold or the flu and of having a particularly severe form of the infection drop if you exercise moderately.

8.) The placebo effect is getting more powerful over time. As medical technology improves, our faith in medicine becomes stronger.

9.) People who view TV crime shows consistently overestimate the frequency of crime in the real world.

10.) People with low self-esteem tend to “try” and humiliate others.

11.) Seeing others positively reveals our positive traits, seeing others negatively reveals our negative traits.

12.) Opposites don’t attract. You’re more likely to be attracted someone who looks and thinks the same as you do.

13.) Memories get distorted over time. The average human has at least one false piece of memory.

14.) Around 80% of human talk in groups, is complaining.

15.) We seem to ignore the ones who adore us & pay more attention to those who ignore us.

16.) Depression is the result of over thinking. The mind creates problems that didn’t even exist.

17.) Being with happy people makes you happier.

18.) Convincing yourself you slept well tricks your brain into thinking it did.

19.) Smart people underestimate themselves, and ignorant people think they’re brilliant.

20.) When you remember a past event, you are remembering the last time you remembered it.

21.)You can’t multi-task

22.) You want more choices and information than you can process

23.) The ability to delay gratification or not starts young

24.) Your unconscious knows first

25.) You are hard-wired for imitation and empathy

26.) Our “strong tie” group size is 150 people

27.) Bite-sized chunks of info are best

28.) People assume it’s you, not the situation

29.) Even the illusion of progress is motivating

30.) Your mind wanders 30% of the time

31.) Your most vivid memories are wrong

32.) The more uncertain you are, the more you dig in and defend your ideas

33.) Your mind “rewrites” monotonous speech of boring people to make it sound more interesting.

34.) Your favorite song is probably your favorite because you associate it with an emotional event in your life.

35.) The type of music, you listen to affects the way you perceive the world.

36.) Romantic love is biochemically indistinguishable from having a severe obsessive-compulsive disorder.

37.) Phobias may be memories passed down through generations in DNA, according to a new research.

38.) Researchers are debating on adding Internet addiction to the list of mental disorders.

39.) The brain treats rejection like physical pain.

40.) 68% of the people suffer from Phantom Vibration Syndrome, the feeling that one’s phone is vibrating when it’s not.

41.) The average high school kid today has the same level of anxiety as the average psychiatric patient in the early 1950’s.

42.) Religious practices, like prayer and attending services, is associated with lower levels of psychological distress.

43.) No one born blind has ever developed schizophrenia.

44.) Your decisions are more rational when thought in another language.

45.) Human behavioral studies suggest that a person who loses their cell phone experiences a panic similar to a near death experience.

46.) A hug longer than twenty seconds will release chemicals into your body that make you trust the person you’re hugging.

47.) People are more honest when physically tired. This is why people confess things during late night conversations.

48.) Chocolate discharges the same chemical into your body that is produced when you start falling in love.

49.) Happiness, anger, sadness, fear, disgust, and surprise are the six emotions that are universally expressed.

50.) People tend to be happier when they are kept busy, as this prevents them from thinking about the negative things in life.

❄❄❄

#PCPA

[xxlovendreamsxx]

my savage, petrified heart.

A/N: to @finallybreathee​ for her birthday! she wanted, and i quote, rough heated "im so mad at you but I love you so much" sex. 

also, forgive any typos in this, it’s completely unedited at the moment. and i hope it doesn’t seem rushed!

rated m. 

“What the fuck were you thinking Sakura?” he hisses, when he finally manages to lead them both into their tent. His face is savage, his jaw clenched, but still he doesn’t let his reprimanding stare linger long on her before he’s already reaching roughly for her medical bag, one hand tightened around her uninjured side to keep her in place.

He’s angry—no, he’s furious, really—because she’s gotten herself stupidly hurt in an ambush he’d specifically told her to get away from, one he insisted he would deal with alone; because she couldn’t obey the only damn command he’d ever given her in their lives, and ended up putting the two of them in danger.  

Wincing, Sakura tries not to mind the brusqueness with which he begins to clean her wound, brows furrowing. “Sasuke-kun, be careful, that hurts—”

“Bear it,” he snaps. “You’re the one who didn’t listen to me.”

But his touch gentles against her, anyway, she notices.

“Look, Sasuke-kun,” she says, eyes softening as she smooths a hand over his shoulder, thumb brushing his skin over his clothes, “I’m sorry that I—”

“Don’t,” Sasuke bites out, throwing her a warning glare as he tosses away the bloodied antiseptic tissues harshly. “I don’t want to fucking hear it. You should have listened to me. You should have gotten out of there like I told you to, when you still had the time—not throw yourself out there and make yourself the main target!”

Sasuke has never been one to doubt her abilities in battle before, to doubt that she is able to do anything less than handle herself, and Sakura knows this; it isn’t that he thought she was too weak to protect herself, or that he thought she’d far overestimated herself.

Rather, Sasuke had only ever been afraid. Petrified that life was going to work its cruel ways on him once more, that it would take away everything he held most dear yet again: his wife, of barely four months now… and the little miracle they’d only just two weeks ago learned she carried in her belly.

“Heal yourself,” he says gruffly, when he finally finishes cleaning up the wide, deep cut at her side. He only pulls away when she complies and begins to heal the damage, shoving the medical supplies back into her bag with more force than would ever be necessary.

“You couldn’t have handled them all alone, Sasuke-kun,” Sakura tries to explain as she works to switch her skin back together. “Chunin level or not, there were fifteen of them. What did you expect me to do? Stand by and watch them—”

“I would have been fine,” Sasuke retorts sharply, furious mismatched eyes turning on her again as he swiftly angles to face her. “Susano would have handled them all without a problem—”

“But you didn’t have enough chakra for Susano and you know it!” she yells back, green, green eyes finally hardening at last. He was so thick-headed sometimes, so stupidly stubborn, and it frustrated her beyond means. “I did what I had to do as a kunoichi, Sasuke-kun. As your teammate, your medic, your mission partner—and as your wife.”

“I wouldn’t have died—”

“I don’t care,” she cuts in, face and tone now severe, impatient. “You would have been hurt, Sasuke-kun, and I wasn’t going to just sit by, or much less run, and let that happen.”

“So you thought you’d get yourself hurt instead?” Sasuke snarls, gritting his teeth harder, eyes flashing, just as angry as before. “That you’d put your life at stake—our child’s life at stake?”

She bristles. “I wasn’t planning to get hurt, you absolute ape—and I never would have if my morning sickness hadn’t started acting up in the middle of the—”

“But you did get hurt!” Sasuke shouts, and there is such desperation in his tone that Sakura quiets instantly, breath catching in her throat.

(there isn’t just fury anymore, there is sadness. fear. an absolute heart wrenching desire to keep the one he loves safe, unscathed.)

Something in her face must have reached him, she muses, because Sasuke quiets too, and finally reaches for her, lone hand curling around her shirt to drag her close. He presses his forehead to her own, shifts his hand protectively over her belly, and swallows, closing his eyes.

“You got hurt,” he grits out, “and I couldn’t do anything about it. You could have gotten killed, and I wouldn’t have been able to stop it. I don’t ever want to feel that helpless again, Sakura.”

“You won’t have t—”

But he kisses her before she really has a chance to finish what she is saying, moving his mouth harshly, slowly; a silent reprimand, she knows. Sakura makes a sound in response, uncertain as to whether this is the wisest thing right now, but cannot help but to kiss him back all the same as the moments pass, melting into him too easily. She gasps out his name, lets him lower her back onto their thin sleeping mattresses, fingers tugging sharply at his hair as he roughly tugs off her clothes and eagerly fits his mouth to whatever patch of skin he bares.

But he’s irritated, still, and that much is made clear in the way he keeps grabbing at her so vehemently, shoving and pulling and moving her body exactly how he wants it; fingers fierce in the way they squeeze and teeth punishing in the way they bite. Sakura doesn’t mind this though, only moans and digs her nails into his skin, scratching approvingly against his scalp and his back. Arches against his touch and wraps her lips around his ear—

But then his hand slips in the wet crest between her thighs, and his fingers find their home, and Sakura begins to quickly grow a little too overwhelmed at the near-brutal pace that he sets up.

“W-Wait,” she cries. “S-Sasuke-kun, wait, you know I’m—ah!—sensitive lately—”

His mouth swallows the rest of her complaints, and Sakura whimpers helplessly, shuddering and bucking halfway into and away from him, mind tumbling into incoherence. She can feel tears brimming at the corner of her eyes, can hardly even heave the next breath into her chest, but then his thumb comes and rubs against the part that is most needy, and she breaks apart so quickly it takes her by surprise.

Sasuke doesn’t even allow her time to catch her wits, though, barely helping her ride out the too clearly powerful waves with greedy strokes before he draws his fingers out and guides one of her limp, shaking legs over his shoulder, sinking his cock into her twitching depths.

“S-Sasuke-kun—!” she gasps out as he mercilessly starts moving already, lone hand gripping at her ass as he bucks her up against his quick, hard thrusts. Her own hands snatch out, catching weakly against his snapping hips. She digs her nails into his skin, crying out again. “Sasuke-kun, please, s-stop! I can’t—”

“Yes you can,” he growls, and merely grinds into her harder, capturing her lips with his own once more.

Sakura barely has the strength to respond, tears finally slipping down her cheeks as he brings his thumb to her clit and mindlessly sends her barreling into release once more, wiping all senses from her consciousness for what seemed like forever.

He’s bowing into her body and clutching at her thigh when she comes back to herself, grunting sounds and syllables of her name against her nape. Scraping his teeth against her skin, his hips jerk and quiver as he spills his hot sticky wetness into her welcoming warmth. Sakura bites her lip, relishes in the feeling; she wants to pull him closer, to wrap her legs around his waist and keep him buried there, but she’s so sapped of her energy that she barely even manages to lace her arms around his neck and curl one shaking hand around his damp dark hair.

“That—That was too much, Sasuke-kun…” she tells him when she finally recollects enough of her mind to think again. At least he’s just as out of breath as she is, she reflects, judging by the hot, winded gasps he puffs against her neck.

“You deserved it,” he replies, rolling onto his back at last. He pants for a few long moments, evidently trying to gather back more of his own mind, but ultimately shifts onto his side to look at her once more, gaze soft.

Thoughtfully, most gently, Sasuke stretches out his only hand, and splays it affectionately on her still-flat stomach, stroking the skin tenderly. “Be more careful,” he says, so quietly. Vulnerably. “Please. If anything were to happen to you, I…”

He trails out, then, but she doesn’t need him to go on. It is too clear what words are left unsaid, what he means to express.

I don’t know what I’d do. You’re everything to me—you, and this baby. So please, take care. Stop putting yourselves at risk.

Throat growing tight, Sakura merely puts a hand over his own, and nods, promising him that she’ll do her best.

A/N: happy birthday darling! hope this brightened your lately shitty days <3

[uncertainkitten]

Social Risk and Initiating Conversation

(Epistemic status:  This largely applies to me solely, but I am totally assuming other people feel this way.  Still, I only actually experience my own qualia and can’t accurately assume other people have the same qualia.  That said, if you feel similar things, tell me so I can have more data points to work with in my amateur sociology!)

This is really long so I’m putting it under a read more and posting a tl;dr.

tl;dr this is a rambling mess that basically posits people don’t initiate conversations, particularly with high status people, because fucking it up sucks and feels very dangerous even if it may not Actually be dangerous; except sometimes it is dangerous so you can’t just completely ignore the inhibition. Conclusion:  People are hard, but initiative is more rewarding than it seems so take  it more.  But not in the categorical imperative sense because then the trade offs change.  h/t @sinesalvatorem because a conversation with her is what inspired this.

I’ve been thinking a lot about the amount of effort it takes me to initiate a new conversation online, and extrapolating from my own experiences to speculate about why people might hesitate to start conversations. I’ve noticed the main issue I have is that I might like what someone does online if they have any presence beyond reblogs/random life posts on facebook, etc., but I am a little terrified of approaching them to say this and getting to know them better. 

So first thing is, I have anxiety, particularly social anxiety, so people without anxiety may not feel these things.  I think part of the reason for this is I have a tendency to assign a lot of status to people, especially if they actually put interesting things out there, even if they might not have as much exposure as I think they should have.  On the flip side, as a social person, I want to create more relationships with people I perceive as high status, both in hopes of getting a bit of that status and also halo effect of assuming people that post things I like (or whatever) are also generally good people to know.  The issue is, getting to know a High Status Person feels really, really risky.  So, like, they aren’t going to initiate with you in most cases unless you do something really noticeable, repeatedly.  This means you have to come to their “turf”, their social space where they have a lot of control. 

As an aside, consider that in today’s society, social interaction is basically the scariest thing we deal with in terms of threats to our well-being.  We’re trained to take a failed social interaction as an injury of varying severity, because insulting the wrong person could literally mean you lose shelter, the ability to provide, and possibly even basics like food and water; once you get caught in this spiral, it’s exceptionally difficult to find a way out, so we’re taught.

Now, back to the above point, talking to High Status People feels risky, because even if you think you have a low chance of failing the encounter, a failure means that you have a very far-reaching, difficult to control or predict impact that colors many, many future impressions.  Even if the person you’re wanting to talk to is really charitable and won’t drag you for fuckiung up, they still might subtly signal disapproval in such a way that other High Status and/or Socially Skilled people pick up, and they may not even intend to do this.  So, you’re in a situation where initiating conversation with a High Status Person puts you at their mercy, more or less, and the benefits of successfully interacting with them don‘t actually seem adequate for the magnitude of the perceived risk.  Even if you don’t literally assume the worst case, there is legitimately high variance in the risk profile of talking with someone with a lot of status; this variance is hard to predict if you’re both not the most socially skilled and if you don’t have an existing relationship with the High Status Person (which of course, you can’t get by not taking the initial risk so yay catch 22).  I think this inhibits some people from starting conversations with people they think they might like.  This leads to an interesting effect;  having high status actually means less people talk to you (online, though I imagine there is probably a critical mass where you’re overwhelmed even by only <1% of people who know of you talking to you), because the risk profile seems so bad.  Which in turn means it is likely easier to get a High Status Person’s attention (to a point, see above parenthetical), which may feel good for them and lower the risk.  Except if everyone realizes this, and actually acts on it, then said High Status Person gets overwhelmed and there is a much higher risk of failing and at best just not being remembered, and at worse being mocked by said person publicly enough to damage your status in a lot of places.

Anyway, I guess the main point is, social risk is very legitimate and valid, but likely overestimated (it definitely is by me, because anxiety).  But erring in the opposite direction of overconfidence is also a failure mode.  I don’t actually know which one is worse; to be honest, most faux pas, even particularly deep ones, get forgotten over time and it’s not like you actually die.  But getting a reputation for being overconfident but actually really offensive one way or another can last long enough to stain you, probably.  But hey, it’s online so you can ditch an identity anyway, so maybe overconfidence is a bit better, and anxiety more justified when you have a lot to lose due to a persistent online identity.

[jacobhinkley]

How Bitcoin Cash Can Avoid the Same Mistakes as Bitcoin Core, Part 3

The following opinion piece was written by Jonald Fyookball.

In parts 1 and 2 of How Bitcoin Cash …, we uncovered the important principles of community education and clarity. Now it is time to turn our attention to one of the most obvious things that went wrong in BTC — the centralization of protocol development.

Also read:  How Bitcoin Cash Can Avoid the Same Mistakes as Bitcoin Core, Part 2

How Bitcoin Cash Can Avoid Centralization

Decentralization comes in many forms: decentralization of nodes, mining pools, wealth, and so on. One thing that was overlooked for a long time in Bitcoin BTC was that while many things were well distributed, there was only one main group of developers (Bitcoin Core).

Decentralized Development Most of the BCH community is now well aware of this folly, and that is why we seek to have multiple independent teams of developers along with multiple full node implementations.

Miners need established, robust software they can rely on, and its important to have several choices; otherwise it means that a single group of developers essentially controls the protocol.

Entrenchment of “The Reference Implementation” Bitcoin Core became entrenched as “the” Bitcoin software, which led to stagnation. Although there were already several different implementations, the dominance of Bitcoin Core has been overwhelming.

Technically, it’s hash power that matters, not how many different nodes are running a certain software… But given the totally lopsided distribution, it was clear that anyone running a different version from Core would be a tiny minority. That means Bitcoin Core calls all the shots as far as BTC protocol rules.

BCH is Doing Better Already We’re heading in the right direction but we’re not out of the woods yet. One interesting phenomenon is that the current level of BCH development decentralization is often either underestimated or overestimated.

On one extreme, some believe development is fully decentralized (since there’s, what, 6 node implementations now?). By contrast, others see the leading team (Bitcoin ABC) as having become the next reference implementation.

The truth is somewhere in the middle. Bitcoin ABC runs around 60–70% of the BCH nodes and Bitcoin Unlimited runs about a third of them. Essentially, instead of one main implementation, there’s now two.

Maybe that sounds a bit disappointing, but that’s twice as many as BTC.

Meritocracy

A meritocracy is defined as “the holding of power by people selected on the basis of their ability.”

There’s often a misguided notion that the main development groups in BCH should have magically have equal influence, rather than acknowledging that influence must be earned.

Those fearful of ABC having too much power might not understand this principle, or more likely, they haven’t seen all that ABC has accomplished to earn what is currently a majority “market share”.

The fact of the matter is that Bitcoin ABC has been the best in class when it comes to leading protocol development, producing timely releases of solid code, and solving problems.

To be specific, it was Bitcoin ABC that created the first node software for Bitcoin Cash, and spearheaded both hard fork upgrades along with the Cashaddr addresses.

Healthy Competition is the Way Forward This is not to say that Bitcoin Cash wouldn’t benefit from an even more disbursed landscape, with several of the smaller implementations gaining more market share and influence.

Instead of the misplaced idea that ABC should be reigned in, other teams should catch up to ABC by competing. That means they need to do as good a job as ABC has done at leading protocol development and delivering reliable software that serves the community.

While its good to have a healthy fear of avoiding another “Core”, Bitcoin ABC actually has been extremely inclusive toward other teams. ABC organizes meetings with other BCH devs (both online and in real life), has created open work groups for various Bitcoin related topics, has invited developers from other groups into their private discussion channels, and has even written code for other teams.

It feels that we’re on the right track with decentralizing protocol development, and I expect it will continue to improve over time.

In the upcoming conclusion (Part 4), we’ll take a look at mining, development funding, and some big picture solutions.

Written by Jonald Fyookball Jonald Fyookball (pseudonym) is a cryptocurrency enthusiast, best known as the project leader of the Electron Cash wallet, and for a series of hard hitting articles on the Bitcoin scaling debate. Jonald is a computer scientist, businessman, investor, libertarian, and Bitcoin advocate.

What are your thoughts on educating the BCH community? Share your thoughts in the comments section below.

Images courtesy of Shutterstock.

Do you agree with us that Bitcoin is the best invention since sliced bread? Thought so. That’s why we are building this online universe revolving around anything and everything Bitcoin. We have a store. And a forum. And a casino, a pool and real-time price statistics.

This is an Op-ed article. The opinions expressed in this article are the author’s own. Bitcoin.com does not endorse nor support views, opinions or conclusions drawn in this post. Bitcoin.com is not responsible for or liable for any content, accuracy or quality within the Op-ed article. Readers should do their own due diligence before taking any actions related to the content. Bitcoin.com is not responsible, directly or indirectly, for any damage or loss caused or alleged to be caused by or in connection with the use of or reliance on any information in this Op-ed article.

The post How Bitcoin Cash Can Avoid the Same Mistakes as Bitcoin Core, Part 3 appeared first on Bitcoin News.

How Bitcoin Cash Can Avoid the Same Mistakes as Bitcoin Core, Part 3 published first on https://medium.com/@smartoptions

[bowsetter]

How Bitcoin Cash Can Avoid the Same Mistakes as Bitcoin Core, Part 3

The following opinion piece was written by Jonald Fyookball.

In parts 1 and 2 of How Bitcoin Cash …, we uncovered the important principles of community education and clarity. Now it is time to turn our attention to one of the most obvious things that went wrong in BTC — the centralization of protocol development.

Also read:  How Bitcoin Cash Can Avoid the Same Mistakes as Bitcoin Core, Part 2

How Bitcoin Cash Can Avoid Centralization

Decentralization comes in many forms: decentralization of nodes, mining pools, wealth, and so on. One thing that was overlooked for a long time in Bitcoin BTC was that while many things were well distributed, there was only one main group of developers (Bitcoin Core).

Decentralized Development Most of the BCH community is now well aware of this folly, and that is why we seek to have multiple independent teams of developers along with multiple full node implementations.

Miners need established, robust software they can rely on, and its important to have several choices; otherwise it means that a single group of developers essentially controls the protocol.

Entrenchment of “The Reference Implementation” Bitcoin Core became entrenched as “the” Bitcoin software, which led to stagnation. Although there were already several different implementations, the dominance of Bitcoin Core has been overwhelming.

Technically, it’s hash power that matters, not how many different nodes are running a certain software… But given the totally lopsided distribution, it was clear that anyone running a different version from Core would be a tiny minority. That means Bitcoin Core calls all the shots as far as BTC protocol rules.

BCH is Doing Better Already We’re heading in the right direction but we’re not out of the woods yet. One interesting phenomenon is that the current level of BCH development decentralization is often either underestimated or overestimated.

On one extreme, some believe development is fully decentralized (since there’s, what, 6 node implementations now?). By contrast, others see the leading team (Bitcoin ABC) as having become the next reference implementation.

The truth is somewhere in the middle. Bitcoin ABC runs around 60–70% of the BCH nodes and Bitcoin Unlimited runs about a third of them. Essentially, instead of one main implementation, there’s now two.

Maybe that sounds a bit disappointing, but that’s twice as many as BTC.

Meritocracy

A meritocracy is defined as “the holding of power by people selected on the basis of their ability.”

There’s often a misguided notion that the main development groups in BCH should have magically have equal influence, rather than acknowledging that influence must be earned.

Those fearful of ABC having too much power might not understand this principle, or more likely, they haven’t seen all that ABC has accomplished to earn what is currently a majority “market share”.

The fact of the matter is that Bitcoin ABC has been the best in class when it comes to leading protocol development, producing timely releases of solid code, and solving problems.

To be specific, it was Bitcoin ABC that created the first node software for Bitcoin Cash, and spearheaded both hard fork upgrades along with the Cashaddr addresses.

Healthy Competition is the Way Forward This is not to say that Bitcoin Cash wouldn’t benefit from an even more disbursed landscape, with several of the smaller implementations gaining more market share and influence.

Instead of the misplaced idea that ABC should be reigned in, other teams should catch up to ABC by competing. That means they need to do as good a job as ABC has done at leading protocol development and delivering reliable software that serves the community.

While its good to have a healthy fear of avoiding another “Core”, Bitcoin ABC actually has been extremely inclusive toward other teams. ABC organizes meetings with other BCH devs (both online and in real life), has created open work groups for various Bitcoin related topics, has invited developers from other groups into their private discussion channels, and has even written code for other teams.

It feels that we’re on the right track with decentralizing protocol development, and I expect it will continue to improve over time.

In the upcoming conclusion (Part 4), we’ll take a look at mining, development funding, and some big picture solutions.

Written by Jonald Fyookball Jonald Fyookball (pseudonym) is a cryptocurrency enthusiast, best known as the project leader of the Electron Cash wallet, and for a series of hard hitting articles on the Bitcoin scaling debate. Jonald is a computer scientist, businessman, investor, libertarian, and Bitcoin advocate.

What are your thoughts on educating the BCH community? Share your thoughts in the comments section below.

Images courtesy of Shutterstock.

Do you agree with us that Bitcoin is the best invention since sliced bread? Thought so. That’s why we are building this online universe revolving around anything and everything Bitcoin. We have a store. And a forum. And a casino, a pool and real-time price statistics.

This is an Op-ed article. The opinions expressed in this article are the author’s own. Bitcoin.com does not endorse nor support views, opinions or conclusions drawn in this post. Bitcoin.com is not responsible for or liable for any content, accuracy or quality within the Op-ed article. Readers should do their own due diligence before taking any actions related to the content. Bitcoin.com is not responsible, directly or indirectly, for any damage or loss caused or alleged to be caused by or in connection with the use of or reliance on any information in this Op-ed article.

The post How Bitcoin Cash Can Avoid the Same Mistakes as Bitcoin Core, Part 3 appeared first on Bitcoin News.

READ MORE http://bit.ly/2IDJHYg

[entergamingxp]

Outer Wilds and the Beauty of Emergent Gameplay Design

February 4, 2020 10:00 AM EST

Sometimes, discovering what your objective is can be your objective in and of itself, which makes the gameplay of Outer Wilds so compelling.

Editor’s Note: mild spoilers for Outer Wilds concepts are present in this editorial. Specific details and plot elements are kept as vague as possible, but but this is a game best experienced blind. Exercise caution before reading, but do play the game first and come back to this editorial after. It’s worth your time.

Had I played Outer Wilds in 2019, it would inevitably have been in my recent Top 10 list. A safe estimate would probably be that it would be #4, since it didn’t impact me quite as much as Disco Elysium, but I digress. What I’m saying is that Outer Wilds is an excellent video game, and I’m glad that I got the chance to tackle it recently.

Now, I would absolutely like to spend the rest of this article gushing about specific parts of Outer Wilds that I liked, including hugely interesting moments or revelations…but I won’t. Much of the charm and fascination that I had with Outer Wilds came from solving its mysteries entirely on my own. It might not be like that for others, but figuring things out entirely from a smattering of clues or acting on unspoken cues was a huge highlight for me.

You begin Outer Wilds by waking up on your home planet of Timber Hearth, staring up at the stars. You’re about to launch on your first space flight, and the opening section serves as a tutorial for many elements of the game you’ll come to experience. One big story beat happens, and then you will launch into space. At this point, freedom is yours! Anywhere you’d like to go in the solar system is completely open to you, once you’ve come to grips with the flight systems. You’ll never get any more tools or permanent upgrades beyond what you start with: the Scout Launcher, Signalscope, jetpack, and your spaceship.

The NPCs will offer a couple of basic suggestions: take a practice trip to the nearby moon? Or perhaps you’d like to meet up with the other explorers from Timber Hearth for tips and advice? The choice of actions you take is yours…up until the Sun promptly goes supernova after 22 minutes, ending all life in the solar system. Yes, that includes yours. After that, you begin once again on Timber Hearth, waking up and staring at the stars. Your ship computer carries over any points of interest or notes that you discovered, but that’s it. Time to do it again…and again…until you start figuring out what is happening and if this abrupt ending to the universe could possibly be prevented.

A Riddle, Wrapped in a Mystery, Inside an Enigma

What follows for the duration of Outer Wilds is a rhythm of learning the workings of the solar system. Each planet offers a set of unique challenges, and solving them will reveal more parts of a bigger mystery. A precursor race left behind traces of many interlinked science projects, and their notes will frequently reference other places or experiments taking place on wholly different planets.

It struck me fairly early on that the only thing I was doing to progress was simply furthering my understanding of the game’s mechanics and setting. This is hardly a unique case, but Outer Wilds is extremely hands-off in letting the player solve this system-sized puzzle. You can’t make the puzzles easier by upgrading your jetpack or oxygen tanks. Ship upgrades to withstand hazards don’t exist. There’s no weapons, and any hazards you find just have to be navigated around.

From beginning to end, I was driving the entire experience forward. A mystery laid before me, expertly crafted and divided into several different information clusters that organically flowed between each other. It became a massive web of science fiction intrigue, and I just had to keep going and see it through to the end. There was always that timer in the back of my mind, yet death by supernova or other hazard was but an inconvenience…and other times, a hasty reset was exactly what I needed to catch a window of opportunity.

A single loop was rarely the same. Sometimes I’d try to act on a hint I’d picked up along the way, only to be missing something crucial to aid my understanding. I’d hurtle into the side of cliffs by accident, park my ship in a place that saw it ejected into space without me, or overestimated distances and run out of oxygen in a cave somewhere. Perhaps I’d uncover a clue about a timed event that would happen ten minutes earlier in a loop, so I’d close out the remaining time by attempting to jetpack to the next planet over. Sometimes, the music would start to signal the end of the loop, and I’d just wait it out by watching the end.

And in some loops…I’d just explore, or try different things without aim. How close could I skirt to the sun to gravity slingshot away? How far out of the system could I make it? Outer Wilds would sometimes possess the atmosphere of a horror game, leaving me tense as I raced against the clock to accomplish some objective I had set. But on other loops I was far more relaxed, just taking in the environment or experimenting with the mechanics further. Having the fear of death and significant consequences removed was relaxing; I could just enjoy and find the unspoken objectives at my own leisurely pace.

Closing the Loop

There is an ending to Outer Wilds, mind you. The mystery does eventually unfold, and a conclusion is reached. I overcame one final loop, fraught with danger and even the threat of permanent consequences this time around. But eventually, all the puzzle pieces were in place, I watched the ending, and I was able to roast a marshmallow one more time before the credits rolled. The sensation was…bittersweet. Finishing the game was an accomplishment, and I’m proud that I managed to reach it. But there’s a pervasive knowledge now that will forever color any attempts that I have to play Outer Wilds again. You can never go back to the first time…we can never experience those same sensations again.

The pervading knowledge is mechanical, also. All the tools and trinkets available from the start will carry you through to the end; what changes is simply the understanding of what you can accomplish with them. Some clues are less about the game’s core mystery, and more hints as to entire laws of physics. One simple sentence in the game — which I won’t spoil — absolutely blew my mind once I processed the practical implications. Subsequent “Ah-hah!” moments of the game felt like major triumphs the likes of which I so rarely experience in games nowadays.

This brings us neatly to the core element of what works so well in Outer Wilds: emergent gameplay design. At no point did the game do anything more than nudge me out into the solar system. I could go anywhere, do anything, and act purely on self-motivation and curiosity. Everything I needed was right in front of me from the outset, but my willingness to play with the systems and explore lead to massive revelations and ramifications. Even stumbling through the tutorial has a looseness to its structure. Hell, revisiting that opening section later in the game made me really just how many future clues had been hinted at there, hiding in plain sight.

I play a significant amount of RPGs; grinding experience, gathering stronger equipment, and attaining incremental upgrades to overall power is familiar territory to me. There’s objectives to complete, requests to answer, rewards to attain, achievements to grind…as much as I quite enjoy these gameplay loops, it can truly start to become a little too structured. Some games end up feeling too much like busywork and maintenance.

“You can never go back to the first time…we can never experience those same sensations again.”

But without that kind of gameplay hook, many players might feel lost or overwhelmed. What’s our next step? What must we do from here? If I can’t best this challenge, what can I do to ease future attempts? Abandoning these essential questions and leaving it up to the player to craft answers is a bold move. It’s to the absolute credit of Mobius Digital that Outer Wilds managed to pull this off with such aplomb. The preservation of the ship log, the marker within if there’s a remaining clue, and a handful of audio cues are all the guidance you’ll be receiving. There’s no mechanical benefit to completing anything; your reward is writing to read, and knowledge for future loops.

Even games of an exploratory, free-form nature tend to fall back on markers and progression systems. Minecraft has a progression system through various equipment tiers, assuming you don’t just take to Creative Mode and build things. Breath of the Wild is large and rewards exploration with unique vistas, but also tangible rewards of shrines or Korok seeds.

Unspoken Player Guidance

Strangely, the game that I most liken to Outer Wilds is Super Metroid. Landing on planet Zebes in Super Metroid, Samus is isolated. The atmosphere is oppressive, despite your weapons and abilities. But the opening sections of the game are a masterclass of game design. Super Metroid subtly guides the player to their first handful of upgrades, encouraging them to figure out what they can do with subtle prompts, and then set the tone and stakes as its once dead world starts to come alive around you.

From landing on the planet to the first boss, the only instruction or line of text given is how to swap weapons to missiles. Everything else is inferred by the player as they descend and then return from that quick expedition. This trend holds throughout all of Super Metroid, keeping guidance and lessons vague as you navigate the planet. But always, there’s cues in how the levels are designed or laid out that encourage you onward. Even the most advanced concepts like wall jumps and Shinesparking is conferred not by text, but by seeing friendly creatures do something similar, and then mimicking their actions.

It’s this kind of non-vocal discovery and guidance that both Outer Wilds and Super Metroid excel at. Laying out a world and systems at the player’s feet, the onus is on you to explore it. Objectives must be uncovered first, and then achieved. Allowing the player to come to grips with gameplay systems, but not explicitly telling them? That creates massively impactful moments once they’re discovered. This subtle, unspoken game design is far more difficult to accomplish, but the fact that Outer Wilds managed it continues to impress.

“Subtle, unspoken game design is far more difficult to accomplish, but the fact that Outer Wilds managed it continues to impress.”

Now, I don’t intend to conclude this write-up by saying that all direction or explicit instruction in games is bad. I like RPGs too much to champion eschewing all progression systems. Nonetheless, Outer Wilds took a chance with its design: here’s a ship and basic tools, now go forth into this solar system! Live, die, repeat, over and over and over again…no progression systems, checklists, or clearly delineated objectives; just a solar system filled with curiosities and a mystery at the centre of it. Knowledge and understanding is all you’ll take with you on your next attempt, and it’s all you truly need to make it through.

Player-driven emergent design is a rare thing to behold in a game as well-curated and constructed as Outer Wilds. I didn’t expect to love it as much as I did, yet I’ve only come to appreciate it more as I wrote this. Once I watched the recent Noclip documentary on the game’s development, I was even more impressed with the design principles that went into it. Games that demand your time and constant attention are increasingly prevalent, so something hands-off and indirect was a breath of fresh air that I didn’t know I’d need. Any confusion generated by Obsidian’s similarly-titled game are unfortunate, but Outer Wilds is surely worth your time for a player-driven experience. Also, you should go play Super Metroid. It’s real good.

February 4, 2020 10:00 AM EST

from EnterGamingXP https://entergamingxp.com/2020/02/outer-wilds-and-the-beauty-of-emergent-gameplay-design/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=outer-wilds-and-the-beauty-of-emergent-gameplay-design

[thecoroutfitters]

Biome Definition Biology and Biome Definition Biology – The Perfect Combination

These gentle creatures have many unique mechanics. Humans create a massive effect on the planet, and a few constructions can be understood from space. Enemies will nonetheless spawn in space, but much less often.

Whatever They Told You About Biome Definition Biology Is Dead Wrong…And Here’s Why

Deserts are a few of the most inhospitable places on Earth, but regardless of the callous, arid environment, some creatures have been able to eek out a method of life. About 20 million decades before, grasslands became widespread. Anyone is appropriate to learn more about the tropical rainforest in Sarawak.

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The upper layer of plant growth is principally composed of tall deciduous trees which stop the majority of the sunlight shining through. Let’s discuss a number of the different kinds of all-natural habitats and the species that reside inside them. Simply monitoring the loss of vegetation alone, isn’t enough.

A number of the sugar in the leaves of oaks and maples may be transformed into red colours. There are several types of wetlands. There are several different varieties of organic habitats.

As a consequence, microbiome research has come to be one of the latest topics http://www.unicaen.fr/ in life science research in the last ten years or so. The analysis was totally erroneous. Whereas the initial study was small, David claims the research team is not likely to repeat it with a bigger group.

The access to water and light together with the climate are abiotic aspects that limit the development of a population. Trees at the maximal level has to be in a position to tolerate extreme sunlight and changing wind patterns. Due to how the animal can’t run long distances, it must catch its prey in the first couple of moments of the hunt.

The importance of biomes can’t be overestimated. Tell what might occur if you put that animal in your biome. Aquatic Biome The aquatic biome is made up of any component of Earth that’s covered with water.

The majority of the rain inside this biome comes in the winter. The taiga is a somewhat chilly and dry location. The period biome is analogous to the scientific usage on Earth.

So much of fermentation, for example, is dependent on environment. An excessive amount of carbon in water contributes to acidification with ecosystem-wide implications. An increase of CO2 also entails a greater temperature, and heat isn’t good for the photosynthesis.

The water professional dissertation help pressure is extremely high and it’s quite cold. Cause the excess glucose throughout the day will keep in our entire body. All of their goods are created from only the maximum quality enzymes and contain absolutely no fillers to guarantee purity.

Second, the states of Definition 3 are extremely strict. Like ecotones, monocultures are very productive. Few are macroscopic.

The microbiota, then, play an integral part in regulating the immune system. As a consequence of increasing human populations, habitat loss is the best factor in current heights of extinction. There are certainly some significant differences.

Your bodies are made to learn by experience. In the long run, the digital world is going to be our world. A greener Sahel is only one of the probable evolutions of the present circumstance.

For some 2000 decades or more civilization was ruled by means of a paradigm that was grounded in the Judeo-Christian creation myth. So you’ve got the opportunity every single time you eat to start to change the population of your gut microbiome. Explore the thought that the universe and this world we’re living in are a lot more benevolent than you may think.

The Appeal of Biome Definition Biology

A great deal of energy is needed to generate new leaves each year. When doing any type of work, whether it’s starting an organization, volunteering at a neighborhood non-profit, or joining a pick-up sports league, it’s human nature to want to get heard and valued. In nature, the edge is a remarkable place to be.

Because of how much is still unknown regarding the effect of the microbiome on human wellbeing, it’s not a treatment that’s done without a very good reason. While there are lots of key bacteria connected with a nutritious microbiome, generally, the larger the diversity, the healthier the microbiome functions and the better health we enjoy. There are two primary varieties of enzymes required to digest your food.

Also, hunter-gatherer societies that aren’t plagued by modern diseases like diabetes and obesity appear to have a much more diverse gut microbiome. Research might realize that Alzheimer’s disease may be avoided by ensuring a balance micro biome. The microbiome has also been suggested to have the ability to play a role in the duration of depression, schizophrenia and autism.

When the AMI image is made, you can terminate EC2 instance to prevent any excess charges. After first use of revitin you will truly feel a difference. It was just annoying, to realize they could already fix their own troubles.

Biome Definition Biology Can Be Fun for Everyone

There are tests that may be done that provide you with the ability to understand precisely what is happening in your gut. Among the worst things about it, is that it’s not normally recognized in a person’s body until it’s too late. Therefore do the proper thing, treat yourself and nourish your entire body and mind with what you want to thrive.

The Honest to Goodness Truth on Biome Definition Biology

Some men and women feel amazing on a comparatively significant carb diet. So make certain you bring enough supplies if you prefer to construct your house here. An area of the unit is embedded into any toilet and passively collects a little stool sample each time the individual utilizes the bathroom, so they don’t even need to interact with it in any way.

from Patriot Prepper Don't forget to visit the store and pick up some gear at The COR Outfitters. Are you ready for any situation? #SurvivalFirestarter #SurvivalBugOutBackpack #PrepperSurvivalPack #SHTFGear #SHTFBag

[emmagreen1220-blog]

New Post has been published on Science Terms

New Post has been published on https://scienceterms.net/psychology/fundamental-attribution-error/

Fundamental Attribution Error

What is Fundamental Attribution Error?

The fundamental attribution error (FAE) is the tendency for us to believe that personality is responsible for other people’s performance, while situation is responsible for our own.  In other words, we tend to “overestimate the effect of disposition or personality and underestimate the effect of the situation in explaining [the]social behavior” of others.  Conversely, we’ll tend to do the opposite when evaluating our own performance.  The fundamental attribution error, when relating to the self, is the tendency to overestimate the effect of the situation and underestimate the effect of personality or disposition on performance.  Put another way, this is the tendency to believe that “what [other]people do reflects who they are.”  However, what we ourselves do reflects the situation that we find ourselves in.

The fundamental attribution error is more evident when we evaluate poor performance.  It kicks in when we see others or ourselves in challenging situations.  When this happens, we tend to believe that others are in the situation because of essential character flaws.  We tend to unduly attribute it to aspects of personality, character, or intention.  However, when we ourselves are in a challenging situation, we believe that it is a result of external factors rather than internal.  We attribute the cause of our own challenges to situational factors, believing that the world has brought it on us, rather than us bringing it upon ourselves.

The fundamental attribution error is the reason that we tend to judge others more harshly that we do ourselves.  We will tend to overemphasize factors of character and personality when evaluating others, ignoring the situational factors that might have played a part.  At the same time, we will tend to rationalize our own behavior, believing that the situational elements have been the determining factors in bringing us to this point.  We can even go so far as to be in complete denial regarding what we have done to contribute to our own situation.  In essence, we judge others harshly while going easy on ourselves.  We tend to think that other people are defective.  However, when we ourselves do something, it is always because of a good (external) reason.

Understanding the Fundamental Attribution Error

The core of the FAE, also called the correspondence bias, is the tendency to attribute causative factors to what we observe, both in people and in general situations in the world.  By interpreting the world in terms of cause and effect, we make it sensible.  We order the stimuli we perceive so that we can understand them, processing information and explaining our own experiences to ourselves.  This gives us some capacity to predict and control our experience.  By understanding things in terms of cause and effect, we learn how to take action to elicit specific outcomes.  We learn how to act and make decisions so that we can navigate towards a desired end.

However, the attribution of causal factors is not an error-free process.  We see that one thing happens before or in conjunction with another and apply a chain of causation.  We attribute one thing to another, creating a link between cause and effect.  However, in any given situation, there are countless different factors occurring simultaneously.  Some of these factors are internal, such as our personality, character, intention, traits, and abilities.  Others are external, such as situational factors, needs, the actions of others, and environmental constraints.

When attributing a cause to an effect, we select certain factors and overlook others.  This is unavoidable, as there are countless factors, both internal and external, to any given situation.  We cannot endlessly analyze all factors to every single situation we encounter, so we use heuristic strategies to make sense of the world.  This is a form of mental shorthand we reflexively use to process and simplify complex information and come to quick and reasonably accurate conclusions.  In the process of attribution, we sometimes mistakenly link one factor to another and create a false causal chain.  These are attribution errors.

Behavior is one of the “loudest” things in our field of observation.  It catches our attention most readily.  So, when we observe behavior, we will tend to attribute it to the causative factors we see around us.  Furthermore, we will naturally tend to focus on either internal or external factors.  When observing others in a social situation, we tend to emphasize internal factors, unconsciously assuming that the motive of the actor is the determining factor in the situation.  We pay attention to the most obvious factors, ignoring other contextual cues that are equally important but less salient.  This leads us to internal attribution.  Said another way, we’ll tend to blame the behavior of others on their personality and character.  Even though it is prone to error, this attribution strategy saves time and effort, letting us come to conclusions quickly about others’ motives and character.

On the other hand, when viewing our own situation, we see it from within.  This makes external factors more visible to us, causing us to attribute our own performance to these factors rather than our personality or character.  When viewing our own situation, we have more background information. We cannot help but recognize environmental and social constraints.  Instead of focusing primarily on dispositional factors, as we tend to do with others, our assessment of our own performance and behavior emphasizes the external.

Fundamental Attribution Error Example

One of the clearest examples of fundamental attribution error is a study done by Jones and Harris in 1967.  Jones and Harris believed that people would tend to attribute behavior to internal factors if they chose freely and to situational factors if their behavior was determined by random factors.  To test this, they did a study where they had people read essays and then assess the attitude of the writer.  The essays were discussions of Fidel Castro in a positive light.  The study was divided into two groups.  One group was told that the authors’ positions in the essays were determined by a coin toss.  Both groups were asked to decide whether or not the writer had a favorable opinion of Castro.

Jones and Harris expected that the group believing the writers’ positions to be freely chosen would also believe that the writers had a positive outlook on Castro.  They also hypothesized that the group told that the writers’ positions were determined by a coin toss would believe that it was situation, rather than internal disposition, that determined their stance.  However, the results were a bit different than they expected.  They found that even when people thought the author’s position was determined by a coin toss, they still believed that the writers had a favorable opinion of Castro.

The Jones and Harris study tested attribution.  The essays were a form of behavior, and the people in the study were asked to determine whether this behavior was based on internal factors (personal opinion) or external factors (chance).  On the surface, the hypothesis seemed reasonable.  It’s understandable to expect that people would believe that the behavior was a product of external factors when knowing that the authors’ positions were determine by a coin toss.  However, it did not account for the fundamental attribution error.   Even after being told that the writers’ positions were influenced by a random event, the experimental group believed that their written stance was sincere.  They still provided internal rather than external attributions to the writers.

The fundamental attribution error comes into play anytime we observe others’ behavior.  One place it’s really easy to see is on the road.  When someone is tailgating or driving too slowly, if they cut you off or in any way do something inconvenient, then the first reaction is often to deride their character.  We see this behavior on the road and automatically assume that the person behind the wheel is rude, or incompetent, or worse.  If we do the same, then we have a reason for it.  We might be late for work, or a bit lost.  Our own behavior is attributed to situational factors more often than not.

You can see it at the grocery store or at work, basically any time you observe anyone.  This also applies when something bad happens.  One study showed that if we hear about something bad happening to someone else, 65% of the time, we’ll tend to believe it’s because of their own behavior or personality.  On the other hand, if a similar bad thing happens to us, then we will tend to think that it’s because of external factors about 56% of the time.

Why Does the Fundamental Attribution Error Happen?

Although the fundamental attribution error has been studied in depth over the last several decades, no one theory has been found to explain it in full.  However, there are a number of theories which predict it and work together to explain it in part.  One which has been touched upon in the passage above is the “salience of the actor.”  Salience is the tendency for something to grab our attention.  We are psychologically geared to pay attention to other people.  Plus, we tend to attribute causes to the things that we notice.  When looking at others, we focus on the person more than the situation, believing them to be the cause of their own situation.  However, when observing ourselves, we will tend to be more aware of the external forces that act upon us.  This accounts both for the tendency to blame others for their situation and to make excuses for our own behavior.

Another theory which contributes to the fundamental attribution error is the just-world phenomenon.  This is the tendency to believe that people get what they deserve.  From this perspective, anything that happens to an individual is the result of internal or dispositional factors.  The just-world phenomenon is, in one way, a self-protective mechanism.  It allows us to believe that the world is fair and that we have control over our lives.  This idea provides some degree of psychological security.  However, it only explains our tendency to consider others responsible for their situation.  The other half of the fundamental attribution error – the tendency to blame our own behavior or situation on external factors – is not accounted for by the just-world phenomenon.

Another element is the “lack of effortful adjustment.”  In essence, this means that even when we are aware that external factors have influenced another person’s behavior or situation, we are still inclined to attribute it to dispositional factors.  This was demonstrated in the Jones and Harris study described above.  Even though the people in the study knew that the authors’ positions were decided by the toss of a coin, they still believed that the writings reflected a sincere attitude.  Effortful adjustment is the tendency to correct for the fundamental attribution error by taking environmental and behavioral constraints into account.  Our inability to correct for this bias tends to increase when we are under a cognitive load, when we have less energy to process the current situation.

Another interesting contributing factor is the effect of culture.  Western cultures tend to be individualistic, while Eastern cultures tend to be collectivistic.  Studies have shown that the fundamental attribution error is more pronounced in individualistic cultures.  Collectivistic cultures tend to focus more on contextual factors, seeing the actions of others, and ourselves, as dependent upon the environment.  On the other hand, individualistic cultures tend to perceive people as independent agents, thus giving more weight to the person than the context.  Plus, individualistic cultures tend to emphasize focal objects over context.  Put plainly, collectivistic cultures are more likely to attribute another’s behavior or situation to external factors and are less prone to the fundamental attribution error as it has been described in this article.

Conclusion

To sum up, the fundamental attribution error is the tendency to attribute other people’s behavior to their character and our own to our situation.  This applies even when we are in exactly the same situation as the other person.  This has some important implications on a personal level.  Seeing that the degree of the fundamental attribution error is influenced by culture, we see that perspective and framing can shift this bias.  If we are aware of the tendency to blame others’ characters for their situation, we can train ourselves to correct for it.  This allows us to be more charitable, understanding, and compassionate regarding the challenges that others face.

The other half of this is accountability.  When we attribute our situation or behavior to external factors, we are actually playing the victim.  There’s no doubt that we are influenced by social and environmental constraints.  That being said, the more we are able to stop blaming other things and people for our situation, the more that we can actually take responsibility for shaping our own lives.  Since this is a deeply engrained bias, it requires vigilance and intentional readjustment over a period of time to change our habitual attribution pattern.  However, the benefits include a better understanding of both ourselves and others.

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[orphans-forest-blog]

5 Reasons Why You Are A Rookie In SEO 2019

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You need in order to provide regular posts either daily or at least several instances a week in order in order to gain a following and offer enough unique SEO content in order to keep your search engine rankings high, attract new viewers plus convince people that you are usually the expert in your industry. Voice lookup will change the way we interact along with search engines and it will certainly make SEO even more competing and vital to online achievement. Our SEO outreach team connect your brand and curated content with key on the web influencers to get people speaking about you & sharing your own message. Yet, with the research engines like google continually transforming their rules SEO may appear confusing and overwhelming. Understanding what these words really imply, and how SEO analysts make use of them to boost your home page's search engine results, may become a whole other story.

Without the doubt, one of the greatest trends that has already started to take place and may continue well into 2018 will be the consolidation of niche MarTech gamers by larger content cloud suppliers, with the role and significance of SEO increasing significantly all through this transformation. SEO Internet marketing offers major components, which develop the particular website traffic, and top lookup engine rankings. SEO is brief for Seo, and there is definitely nothing really mystical about this particular. You might have heard the lot about SEO and exactly how it works, but basically exactly what is a measurable, repeatable procedure which is used to deliver signals to search engines that will the pages are worth displaying in Google's index. Topic clusters have got been lauded since the future associated with SEO and content strategy, yet are widely underreported on (so now's the time to hit! ) 93% of B2B companies use content marketing. Teresa Walsh, Marketing Professional at automobile site, Cazana, forecasts that hyper organic targeting will probably increase its importance in 2019 with more location search plus more voice search. We get to the particular bottom of on-page SEO difficulties in order for search motors to clearly see what your own website is all about. SEO requires you to continuously be considered a student because of just how quickly the algorithms of lookup engine companies change. Google's punishing methods probably class pages as some thing akin to a poor UX if they meet certain detectable criteria e. g. lack associated with reputation or old-school SEO stuff such as keyword stuffing a site.

Upon the subject of speed, from the beginning of 2017 presently there was still much resistance in order to AMP in the SEO local community overall, but as we mind toward 2018 that feels in order to be dissipating now somewhat along with a reluctant acceptance that AMPLIFIER looks as though it's not really going away sooner. The biggest way that individuals misuse SEO is assuming that will it's a game or that will it's about outsmarting or deceiving the search engines. Both are crucial to the particular success of an SEO strategy, but they're on completely different edges of the fence when this comes to improving your search motor rankings. Over 50% of mobile phone customers started using voice search correct from 2015, and so we all can expect that in 2019 and after that not much less than 50% of searches may be in the form associated with voice search. Within the past, getting a great SEO was only about making use of keywords. Remember Blog9T that SEO is usually about targeting real people, not really only search engines. In the event that you do these on-page plus off-page elements of SEO in least along with your rivals, you can achieve higher lookup engine ranking positions in the particular organic section of search motor results pages and have the quality website capable of preserving your revenue goals. In my opinion that 2018 is going to be the particular year where voice search changes how users search and SEOs need to optimize. SEO or Search engine search engine optimization is a term coined jointly to describe the techniques that will the website should use in order to boost its rankings on the search engine.

[knaik531]

Month 9 Team Postmortem

Bumpergrounds Post Mortem

 TLDR; Things were kind of rocky, and Gary and Jabari didn’t pull their weight.

Bumpergrounds is a couch cooperative game that has two main modes: battle royale and bumper league. The battle royale mode takes place on a floating arena where players fight and ram each other to be the last man standing on the top of the arena. The bumper league version involves much of the same mechanics and the battle royale but the players are separated into two-man teams and tasked with trying to ram the enemy into their own goal to score points.

The Battle Royale mode is a simple 4-player, every man for himself style of game that focuses on ramming players off of the platform and into the abyss below. Players had control of their own vehicle and had several different ways to push someone off the edge. Players could ram other players without any modification, use a dash to ram a player extremely hard or pick up a power-up to give them an edge. The game ends when there is only one member remaining, and then the mode restarts.

The Bumper League mode puts the players into an arena where they must work together with their teammate to ram the enemy team into a goal. Many of the same mechanics are there, with the dash and power-ups. However, many of the power-ups have been reworked to fit the new style of gameplay that was introduced. The players are able to use these power-ups to their advantage, but also have the ability to use them to their disadvantage. We wanted to make sure that players weren’t just unscorable machines if they had power-ups, so we made sure to take some power away from the player in this regard.

           There are pros and cons to every project and team that decides to start on a project together. The biggest thing about quick projects is turning any of your cons into pros as fast as possible. When we first started the project, our communication as a team was severely lacking. After completion of our first milestone, the project that we had to show looked as if Doctor Frankenstein was the lead designer on it; it was completely in pieces. Coupled with our inability to communicate was a lack of attention to detail. Many of the documents we needed to keep up with went unfinished, or worse, unstarted. Another major con that the team suffered from was the constant inability to stay on schedule. We were typically about 10 hours into the hole starting each new milestone after the first one; this led to some members being over capacity leading into each new milestone.

           However, our team was able to modify many of these cons and turn them into pros. For the lack of communication, we started having team meetings every morning at 8am and used that time to catch up with everyone on what work needed to be done and work as a group until about 10am. This greatly improved our communication and productivity. Using these team meetings, we were able to push ourselves for more quality work and even increase how much work we were able to do which helped us start slimming down the amount of leftover work after each milestone. Another pro that came out of early meetings were accountability. For the first milestone, we went in with blind faith that all members were completing the work they were supposed to. After we started meeting in the mornings, we were able to track everyone’s work more frequently and keep up with what person is assigned to what task and what their progress is with it so far.

           Another con was that we did not start with a clear idea of what features we needed. This led to our schedule not always reflecting the work that needed to be done, particularly early on, and it also made it incredibly difficult to create work for all of the milestones from the beginning of development. This isn’t really something that we were able to fix. We never had a clear idea of where we wanted to take the project.

The team members of this project are: Rowan, Mitch, Janko, Gary, Karan, Jabari. The jobs of each person are as follows: Rowan took the role of Lead Developer/Designer and Producer, Mitch took the role of Artist/Producer, Janko took the role of Artist/Producer, Gary took the role of doing nothing all month, Karan took the role of Artist, and Jabari took the role of Dev-lite.

The first milestone took a lot of the core functionality from the first game that was made, Bumpergrounds: Battle Royale. New car models and textures were slated to be completed by Karan. Janko was tasked with getting the arena model done. Rowan created new functionality for the vehicle’s being flipped and their starting areas. Mitch worked on vehicle power-ups that could be picked up in the arena and collision particles. Gary was tasked with the menu ui and functionality, though he didn’t actually do anything the first week. Jabari was tasked with implementing score and timer functionality and making the arena obstacles move on a timer. The total estimated hours was 66 for milestone 1 and the actual hours worked were only 47.25 leaving 7 hours remaining for work to be done. This overestimate made for milestone 1 led to less work being that could have been spent either polishing what was actually done or starting work on milestone 2.

Our communication was lacking and some of our members motivation to do any work was severely lacking, which fell on the rest of us to bite the bullet and receive harsh criticism from Roy, our instructor. It unfortunately required us to force meeting times upon everyone just to make sure that people were doing the work tasked to them. This consisted of early mornings or late evenings at the UX Lab or Library. Though it was inconvenient for all parties involved, it was a necessary action. The presentation for the first milestone was pretty rocky as well with members not knowing which slide to speak on or even knowing what tasks were already done or what has yet to be started. This milestone presented us with a harsh learning experience but this has also drilled time management into most individuals involved.

Milestone 2 was our largest milestone, which was needed to catch up on the work that wasn’t done for the first milestone. Jabari was tasked with continued work on implementing the obstacle movements into the arena and power up spawns. Janko was tasked with laying out the UV’s of the arena and texture it. Rowan was tasked with implementing the arena model into the game and further iterations on the power ups in the game. Karan was tasked with the pause menu art and the score/timer HUD and win screen art. Mitch was tasked with giving the cars dash trails, getting the cars in engine, and recreating the schedule per our feedback from Roy. Finally, Gary was tasked with pause menu functionality. Milestone 2 was estimated to take 75.5 hours but only had 65.2 actual hours on record and 5 remaining hours of work left to do.

Forcing members to meetup, or at least setting strict meeting times, helped the team mostly reach the work tasked to them, though only some members were present for every meeting. We were slightly back on task with our work for the project, though still slightly behind on our required hours. We also saw better performance with the presentation and management of our tasks and schedules. An entire new excel sheet was made to properly track milestones, tasks, and hours.

 Milestone 3 had slightly less hours and tasks then milestone 2 so that we wouldn’t overshoot our estimated hours. The estimated hours was 77 and the actual hours were 67.25 but leaving 11 hours remaining. Jabari was tasked with still connecting the obstacles to the arena, player indicator UI, and power up modifications. Janko was tasked with making a second pass at the arena textures. Mitch was tasked with implementing a fall area to the map, resizing player icons, and further data management of the schedule. Rowan was tasked with modifying the cars movement and picking up the slack of Jabari and Gary. Karan was tasked with modeling car variants and making a splash screen. Finally, Gary was tasked with still working on previous milestone tasks that he failed to do any work on.

Hours remaining were mainly Gary’s and putting hours that he worked but didn’t actually do anything. If we could go back to any of the previous milestones and review Gary’s submission, there is a small chance that he would still be part of the project, if given the ability to fire him. This lack of motivation and attendance at the meetings further proves that some members, no matter how often talked to about poor performance, cannot and will not do anything.

 Milestone 4...

  If we were to begin this process again, we would certainly take the time to work through a design that the team could focus on for the entirety of the project’s life. Rather than attempting to make milestones after our previous one was completed, it would give us the chance to plan the entire set of milestones up to the final delivery. We feel that the lack of defined roles in the team gave us an level of ambiguity of tasks that each member was able to complete. This lead to members being unable to complete items that they were tasked with. Assigning roles would give a clear expectation of what to expect from each member, what tasks they could work on, and what assistance they may possibly need to push the task to completion and implementation into the build. One of the most important issues that we had with our process is that we blindly followed our tasks and never really cared about if the game was fun. We didn’t take the chance to re-evaluate any of the tasks or the game itself to see if we should focus on making it more fun and enjoyable. That would be one of the things we improved; if the game isn’t fun, figure out why and change it to make sure that the experience is enjoyable to the audience playing it.