#you can see me find my rhythm while doing these. starting very brief and chaotic and then devolving into the yapperrr

[pondanimal]

marq's tips for capturing beetles

these were made bc a friend or two mentioned they were struggling to get their faces distinct and so i offered my #thoughts

you arent a better or worse artist for doing any of this, but if you find any of my observations helpful then yay! that's all

[myherowritings]

PART 1. A VERY WELL-DESERVED TIP

SUMMARY. Todoroki Shouto was a wealthy, young CEO who inherited his father’s enterprise. You were a barista at a local cafe who wouldn’t mind some extra cash. One day, Shouto came in during an early morning shift and tipped you such a large sum of money, you were certain it had to have been an accident. To your surprise and complete pleasure: It was not.

PAIRING. ceo!todoroki shouto x barista!reader

WORD COUNT. 2.0k

GENRE. ceo/barista au, fluff, eventual smut

WARNINGS. none in this chapter

A/N. my brief work as a barista is finally paying off. i suffered at sbux all to write this fic ✌︎('ω'✌︎ ) LMAOOO i frl had so much fun writing this and i’m very excited to share the next parts ;) i hope you enjoy this fic as much as i do!! xx sof

SERIES MASTERLIST

© myherowritings — all rights reserved. reposting, modifying, copying, or translating of any kind is not allowed. do not read my writing as asmr. do not plagiarize.

You were not looking forward to your new work schedule for the next month. 

The employee who usually came in for opening shifts at four in the morning gave her two weeks notice...two weeks ago. And since you had your availability open (you knew you should’ve blocked it off and said you had morning class), your manager asked you to fill her place. 

The night before your first—of many—morning shifts, you tried tricking yourself into thinking it was a good idea. And it almost worked! Sort of. 

You told yourself waking up early when the sun rose worked with your body’s natural circadian rhythm and this experience may adjust your sleep schedule for a healthier one in the long run. Better health and wellbeing and lower risks of cardiovascular disease. Or something. You weren’t too sure exactly; you never paid much attention in biology but it sounded like something you’d find in a textbook, right?

When you arrived on your first day, the morning shift was just as hectic and chaotic as you expected. People in business suits with name brand bluetooth earphones in their ears and the latest new smartphone in their hand filled the shop and waited for their online order. It was as if they wanted the least amount of social interaction possible, which would be fine if being able to make connections with customers wasn’t the most interesting part about being a barista. 

Although the cafe you worked at was a small business who actually (tried) to pay their employees fairly and wasn’t a purely money hungry franchise like the certain green siren, it surprisingly had gained enough traction in the area to rival one of those cheap, chain stores. 

Good for the business, bad for sleepy workers who could barely function in the mornings.

But you enjoyed working here and the owners were kind, so you did your best to shove away the tiredness and put a bright and cheery smile on your face. The customers were grumpier than you were used to, but who wouldn’t be a little ill-mannered having to go to work at 5 a.m. and probably not leaving until 6 p.m. or later because of bosses who overworked them? Trying to get them their morning coffee with an amiable attitude to start off their day right was something you were more than happy to do. 

It was too bad barely any of them gave you the time of day. They just wanted to get their caffeine and leave with as little human interaction as possible. It was understandable, of course, but it wasn’t the lively cafe environment you were used to during later shifts. You sighed, hoping the atmosphere would be friendlier when it wasn’t a major rush hour. 

“Hi! I can help the next person in line,” you called for the twentieth time this hour. When they moved forward towards the cash register, you gave them a smile. “Good morning. I hope your day has been going well!”

“It’s been okay, thank you. And yours?”

Your eyes widened in surprise and you almost sputtered over thin air. Someone who actually replied back to what you said and asked about you in return? Even if the intent was a courtesy conversation that was meant to be quick and brief, the sentiment was there—the upholding of the values of common courtesy and human decency. Something too many people seemed to lack. 

“I’m good as well! A little tired but what’s to be expected a quarter ‘til 6 a.m.?” you said with a laugh. “Thank you for asking.”

The customer gave a small smile in return and you internally celebrated for finally seeing your first pleasant expression this morning. “Must be even more tiring dealing with all these people. Doesn’t seem easy. I have to commend you for it.”

He was a tall, handsome man with a pretty face, soft-looking hair, and genuinely nice? There was no way this was real; you had to be dreaming. 

You twiddled with the pen in your hands, taken aback and mildly embarrassed by the praise. “Just doing my job,” you said with a bashful look. “Thank you, though.” You cleared your throat, not wanting to hold the line up for too long, even if the customer was one you would rather keep talking to than the others. “Now, what can I get started for you today?”

“Right. Can I get a flat white in the medium size?” 

“Of course.” You typed in his order into the register before asking, “And is there anything else I can get for you? Like a pastry? Today we have some freshly baked cheese danishes that are really yummy if you’d like to try!” 

He thought for a while before shrugging. You weren’t sure if it was your eyes playing tricks on you or he actually had an amused look on his face. “Sure, I’ll take a couple dozen of those as well.” 

“A couple dozen—?” your voice faltered. The suggestion of a fresh pastry was one you made to almost every customer, though most turned it down on the spot. 

The cafe had a little weekly competition between workers to see who could sell the most pastries in the week and the one who sold most got...well, a free pastry and bragging rights. Admittedly, it wasn’t much, but nothing revved up sales like friendly rivalries. An order of a couple dozen was sure to land you in the top spot this week! Still, you had to make sure he meant it. You’d feel bad if he was just spending all his hard-earned office work money because he was trying to be courteous. (Or at least, you assumed he was some office employee.) 

You cautiously asked, “Are you sure?”

Either your eyes were playing tricks on you yet again, or the look of amusement on his face grew even more than before as he said, “I’m sure. One medium flat white and, say, three dozen boxes of cheese danishes, please.” 

“C-Coming right up!” you said, quickly entering his order and celebrating your free end-of-the-week pastry in advance. “That will be $42.81. Would that be card or cash?” 

“Card.” He pulled out a sleek, black card with gold detailings on it and you never knew you could be sexually attracted to a credit card until now. 

“Perfect! Go ahead and swipe, insert, or scan your card now. In the meantime, can I get a name for your order please?” 

He scanned his card over the machine before looking back up at you. “It’s To— Ah, Shouto.” 

“Shouto?” you asked in confirmation. You assumed it wasn’t ‘Toahshouto’. That sounded too much like the abbreviation used to remember how to find sine, cosine, and tangent.

“Yeah. Shouto.” 

You smiled. “Well, Shouto, your order will be ready in a few minutes. Please wait over to your right to pick it up!”

He nodded. 

“It was nice meeting you!” you called, waving goodbye. “I hope you have a good rest of your day.”

“Thank you,” he glanced at your nametag, “Y/N.” 

Oh, how nice it felt to be treated like a human by a customer and have them actually address your name— And not to say it in a condescending way either. 

“Do individual baristas get to keep the tips here?”

You blinked, feeling your face warm up slightly. “We do, actually.” One of your favorite parts of the job, you had to admit. 

“Glad to hear.” Shouto pulled out some crisp-looking bills from his wallet and placed one in your hand that said ‘100’ to you. “Thank you for your kind service, Y/N.” 

“Wha—” Your eyes widened. You were expecting something along the line of three dollars. Maybe five at most. But a hundred? By the time you had processed what had happened he was walking away from the cash register. “Wait— Shouto...sir! I think you accidentally gave me the wrong amount.” 

He shook his head, only briefly turning back to face you. “Nope. It’s for you,” he said simply. “I’m looking forward to the cheese danishes.” 

His words left you stunned, but the next customer in line tapped their foot impatiently, signaling it was now time for you to take their order. You hoped the line died down before Shouto left the cafe so you could return the tip, but seeing as how the queue almost extended out the door, you had the sinking feeling that wouldn’t be a possibility. 

“Hello, I can take the next customer in line!” you recited cheerfully, mind still occupied by thoughts of your last encounter. 

The next few orders went along uneventfully (though you did manage to sell two more cheese danishes) and by the time Shouto got his coffee and pastry boxes, you still had a handful more customers to get through. 

“Pardon me real quick,” you said apologetically to the woman in front of you. “Please give me one moment?” 

She graced you with a nod and you thanked the stars above for an understanding patron. 

“Wait— Excuse me, sir!” You waved in Shouto’s direction before he could exit the cafe. He glanced at you curiously but walked over. In a hushed voice, you said, “I really appreciate the tip, but there’s no way I could accept this much money from you!” 

For the first time today, you say the hints of a frown on his face. “You cannot?” 

“No! $100 is a lot! You already bought $40 worth of cheese danish pastries— Are you sure you meant to give that big of a tip?”

“Of course.” He took a sip of his coffee with a satisfied hum. “You getting up at such an early hour to take people’s orders with a kind attitude isn’t easy. Plus, trying to build rapport with each of them all while keeping the interacting swift is a difficult task itself. And it’s probably worth more than your current pay, the $100 tip, and then some.” 

You blinked, stunned by his words. This man kept surprising you so many times in just one morning. 

“I find it ridiculous how certain occupations are paid an ungodly amount more than others, especially when a lot of it comes from privileges you were born into.” Shouto seemed to mumble the last bit to himself, but you were still able to understand what he said. “It’s bullshit.” Before you could respond, he recollected himself. “Eat the rich, right? All that to say, please accept the tip. You deserve it. And I promise it’s of no detriment to me, so please don’t feel bad.”

Seeing the determined look on his face, you couldn’t help but stare at him before nodding. He didn’t say anything you didn’t already believe yourself, and if someone really wanted to give you $100, you weren’t going to fight them on it. Think of all the dumplings you could buy, you told yourself.

“T-Thank you then.” You gingerly placed the folded bill back into your pants pocket. “I think that was really insightful of you and I’m very grateful.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He smiled before glancing towards the exit. “I’m running a bit late for work now, so I should be going. Have a good day, Y/N.”

“You too, Shouto. And… Thank you again!”

With a glowing expression on your face, you walked back to the cash register ready to face the day and talk to more lovely customers!

“Hey, little barista!” a gruff voice called from the line, snapping you out of your stupor. “Hurry it up already before you force me to complain to your manager.” 

You internally sighed. You understood they were in a rush, but they still had no right to be that rude. 

“Can you even hear me? Or are you too incompetent?”

Cue another internal sigh. 

Yeah, okay. Maybe you did deserve this $100 tip.

Regardless of the rude customers that may have come in, at least you had your thoughts of a cute, kind businessman who went by the name of Shouto to get you through your shift. And you could only hope you’d be able to see him again.

a/n: the end of part one folks!! oh what i’d give to have gotten a tip like this when i worked as a barista BAHAHA only in my dreams. i hope you enjoyed this little intro part and are excited for what’s to come !! :3

what to expect in the next part:

~maybe~ y/n will see shouto again and,,perhaps,,get more tips from him idk who knows 

old lady imparts some...helpful(?) advice 

we briefly get to see shouto’s pov! ;D

[songandashadow]

august fic rec

so this list is a whole mess because I haven’t made one in so long and in the time since I last did, I discovered a whole bunch of new fics and authors that I can’t even begin to put in one rec. Instead here’s a small part of the massive amount of fics I read recently. Please give these authors kudos, comment and enjoy. :)

❀ This Could Be Something by 28sunflowers |  6k words

After a hookup gone wrong, Harry keeps getting sick at random times without reason. That is, until Louis shows up at his door with a wild explanation.

Sometimes, "happily ever after"s come in the strangest forms.

❀ (Take Me Home) Country Roads by Awriterwrites | 86k words

a Northern Exposure AU featuring Louis as the big city doctor, Harry as a natural healer, Niall as a secretive barkeep, Liam and Zayn head over heels for each other but they don't know it and a lot of hurt, comfort and moonshine in between.

❀ Love You a Latte by 1Diamondinthesun | 15k words

Louis Tomlinson doesn’t drink coffee and definitely doesn’t go to Starbucks. Enter barista Harry Styles. Add a double shot of espresso, stir in 90s references to taste, and top with whipped cream and love.

Or, the coffee shop AU featuring girl direction, creative espresso, and a professor and a barista falling in love in one beautiful autumn.

❀ Please Be Naked by Only_angel_28 | 17k words

Louis starts squirming, desperately needing something to do with his hands. Needing to do anything, really, to distract him from the perfect male specimen standing naked in front of him. In the end, the only thing he can do is strip out of his own jeans and briefs, which he does with trembling, clumsy fingers, his heart beating out a violent, chaotic rhythm in his chest the entire time.

He hears Harry’s sharp intake of breath, and slowly raises his eyes from where he was staring at his own bare feet to meet his gaze.

“So,” Harry says bashfully, his voice gone even deeper somehow. “We’re naked.”

“Yup,” Louis squeaks.

“You okay?”

No!

“Yup,” Louis repeats, sounding just as unstable as he did the first time.

This is the last favor Louis Tomlinson is ever doing for Zayn Malik. (Because, after today, he’ll be dead, but that’s neither here nor there.)

❀ The Sleeping Giant by LadyLondonderry | 3k words

In the centre of the pond, there is a sleeping giant.

He rises out of the water, eyes closed and face at peace, sitting as if in a trance. Moss grows up his back, tangles in his hair. He is at peace here, or perhaps he is peace. Perhaps he is what keeps the pond and the clearing so quiet and serene, blessing the forest with his presence.

❀ I Heard You Talking by lululawrence | 10k words

It had been an hour of their noise that Louis had been dealing with, and for some reason the fact that these grown men were being this rowdy in the quiet carriage over a game of Uno was the breaking point for him. He stood up and turned around, making his way down to where the group of five were somehow gathered around a table.

Louis stopped at the table and cleared his throat, mouth open and ready to politely request they keep it down when the man who was sitting with his back to Louis turned.

He was stunningly gorgeous.

Blinking a ridiculous number of times in an attempt to pull himself together, Louis coughed and spit out, “This is the quiet carriage.”

God, he was nearly forty and that was the best he could do in front of a set of pretty, green eyes?

Or the one where Harry is famous and Louis doesn't have a clue. Good thing his son is able to help him out.

❀ The Lonely Planet Guide to Second Chances by 1Diamondinthesun | 102k words

When Harry and Louis broke up, the last thing on Harry's mind was the non-refundable surprise trip he had booked for them across Europe. Harry was supposed to be moving on, not sightseeing with his ex. In hindsight, touring the continent with Louis was probably a bad idea. So naturally, that's exactly what Harry did.

Or, the breakup travel fic featuring romantic sunsets, awkward bed sharing, and second chances against a backdrop of some of Europe's most iconic cities.

❀ got the sunshine on my shoulders by hattalove | 124k words

five years ago, harry styles left his tiny home town to make it big as a recording artist. he didn't have much regard for what he left behind - a life, a family, and a husband, who woke up one morning to find him gone.

now, harry has everything he could possibly want: he's rich, famous, and adored by everyone he meets, including his boyfriend. but when said boyfriend proposes to him, he's forced to face the uncomfortable facts of his past - and louis, who's spent the last five years returning every set of divorce papers harry sent him.

(or, an au based on the movie sweet home alabama.)

❀ bright eyes, blue denim by 4ureyesonly28 | 2k words

Louis' favourite jeans have suddenly disappeared from where he always got them. Harry is a store manager with an affinity for customer care, particularly when the customer has bright blue eyes and happens to be very flirty.

❀ Take Your Time by Layne Faire (HisDarlin) | 11k words

When Harry finds himself in the middle of a messy break-up with no place to live, Louis offers a spare room in his flat. Unbeknownst to Harry, Louis has been infatuated for years. Over the objections of their friends, who know the truth, Harry accepts. Can Louis survive Harry moving into his home…and closer to his heart? Will Harry see what's right in front of him?

❀ I'm Tripping Over Your Every Single Move by lookingfortherainbow | 5k words

“I could pretend to drown,” Harry gasped, looking like he was in awe of his own genius. “Oh my god, what a story to tell our kids. He’d be my reason for almost dying, my reason for staying alive. By the way, have you been working out more lately?”

Liam stared in utter disbelief at his friend’s wild imagination, vaguely noting that Harry was now petting at his bicep in a daze, no longer holding it in a death grip. Sometimes, he wondered why Harry wasn’t at least minoring in theatre.

“Harry, babe. You’re here on a scholarship. For swimming. You’ve literally won multiple events in this very pool. Because you’re so good at swimming. You come here almost everyday to train, which I don’t think has escaped any of the lifeguards who work here. I don’t think that’s as good a plan as you think it is,” Liam said, eyebrows turned up with concern.

Or, Harry is the local swimming star athlete and Louis is the lifeguard that turns Harry into a fish out of water.

❀ the pinker, the bluer by docklands | 1k words

Harry comes out as a trans guy during the pandemic. Working from home and away from everyone, he finds liberty to explore his self-identity. One night, however, he decides to go out.

❀ Lovin' It Up by letsjustsee | 6k words

What did Niall know? This had nothing to do with the few times (okay, countless times) Louis had pined over the idea of Hot Neighbor while drinking. Nothing at all. So what if he had perfect lips and long legs and the cutest little curls around his ears? Certainly not Louis.

He continued to scribble away, most of his words indiscernible except for one written in large letters at the very top of the napkin: REVENGE

Or, a neighbors AU in which Louis vows to get revenge on the guy who didn't hold the elevator for him - no matter how ridiculously attractive he may be.

❀ My Strange Addiction by phdmama | I'm Hot for Teacher verse

The guy at the other end of the bar has been checking Harry out all night.

❀ take the time for you by pixies | 1k words

Dating hasn’t really been very easy for him, lately, not ever since he moved to London earlier in the year for his job. He’d had terrible luck with online dating and was too dedicated to his current projects at work to make time to go out to the bars or to try to socialize more than once every few weeks.

aka, Harry ends up at speed-dating to get his friend off his back and has a better night than expected.

[oudenoida]

First Impressions

It had been a long two weeks. Moving all of your belongings 6700 miles around the world while trying to set up the lease on a shopfront, find a flat, and settle into both was a herculean effort, and Ryo thought that now that he was here, he wasn’t going anywhere for quite some time. Most of his efforts had been focused on the shop, with his spartan flat suffering because of it. He’d made a number of pieces throughout his time at Mahoutokoro, and especially as part of his final year thesis, but there was still the nagging thought in the back of his head that it wasn’t enough to open a shop on, even if most of his business, he was sure, was going to be bespoke creations. It was leaving the still-shuttered but about to open shop one evening that he decided to finally poke his head into the herbalist’s shop that he had leased an apartment above. It always seemed to be a hive of activity and simply from walking past the window he had no idea who actually ran the shop. But if he was to be living above them it was only polite that he made an introduction. 

Winter had truly begun to settle in in Diagon, but crossing the threshold from blustery London to the inside of the shop made it easy to forget. It was so warm Ryo was forced to pull his wand from his back pocket, a muttered incantation clearing the fog from his glasses as he held the door open for an exiting customer. Inside was even more chaotic than it had first appeared through the window, but with an inherent rhythm and order that Ryo could appreciate. The bustle was frenetic, but everything was neat and in its place and everyone seemed to know exactly what they were doing. 

“GOODEVENINGWELCOMETOTHESHOPSOMETIMESCALLEDTHEPLANTSHOPUSUALLYJUSTCALLEDTHESHOPBYTHERIVERHOWMAYWEHELPYOUTODAY.” Delivered in a single breath and at breakneck speed Ryo took a long moment fix hair blown by the winter wind to parse out exactly what had been semi-shouted at him by a child who appeared to be standing on a stool behind the counter. 

“Well you got all the words right, Alice. But let’s try to take it about five times slower.” A woman not much older than him appeared in the crowded shop, brushing hair out of the girl’s face and shooting Ryo a soft smile. 

Alice, as Ryo assumed the young woman was called, took a deep long breath, “Good evening, welcome to The Shop, sometimes called The Plant Shop, usually just called The Shop By The River. How may we help you today?” 

He couldn’t help but smile broadly and half-bow, a hand over his heart, “Good evening Alice. I was wondering if I could please speak to the proprietor of this shop.” 

It was clear fairly immediately that proprietor had been too complex a word but the woman who’d prompted a reduction in speed in favor of comprehension smiled again, one of the most genuinely heartwarming smiles he’d ever seen, and patted Alice on the back, “He means me, dear. Go help Mr. Castro. I know he thinks he’s the best at it, but nobody can pick the best damask rose blossoms like you can.” Alice’s face erupted into a supernova of a smile and she scampered across the shop to a handsome man sitting behind a mountain of dried roses, gently signing to a child next to him, apparently teaching them how to tell which ones were the best. 

“Perry Abrams, owner and operator of this little slice of chaos, what can I do for you?” 

Taking a moment to collect himself in the face of the unrelenting and blinding love Ryo swept hair out of his eyes before reaching out his hand, “Good evening Ms. Abrams. Ryoichi Katsuhoji. I have recently leased the apartment above your shop, in addition to a storefront three doors down. I wanted to come down to introduce myself and apologize if it has been too noisy over the past few days. I am mostly unpacked now and the noise will diminish.” 

He was rewarded for this monologue with a brief pause, and then another absolutely brilliant smile, “So you’re the new shop everyone’s been buzzing about! The butcher paper over the windows very much gives a Christmas present vibe and the street can’t wait to unwrap it. It’s lovely to finally meet you, Mr. Katsuhoji. Alice!” the child from the counter sped back over, a crown of dried blossoms now resting in her flame-red hair, “Please run down the street and tell Chef Conrad that we’ve figured out who the new shop belongs to and we’re ready for the welcome basket. If Mr. Goshawk is outside tell him where you’re going” 

“YESMSABRAMSSCUSEMEMRKATSUHOJI” Before he could respond Alice was out the door, pausing briefly to talk to a familiar dark haired man that seemed to constantly be standing outside, ostensibly guarding the shop. Ryo had never introduced himself to the man but they nodded at each other every morning when he left his apartment.

“As to the noise, Mr. Katsuhoji-”

“Just Ryo is fine, Ms. Abrams.”

“Then you’ll call me Perry.” It wasn’t really phrased as an option, and Ryo respected that. “As to the noise, Ryo. I’m more shocked that we don’t bother you with everything going on down here. As you can see, we run a bit of a chaotic operation.” Gesturing broadly to the shop around her Ryo took in the scene that her hand encompassed. Children and young men and women helped dry herbs, some carefully labelling, some tying bundles together, a few of the older ones over small cauldrons distilling essential oils. He had seen far more children and teenagers in this portion of the alley than he had elsewhere in the city, and there had been moments when he was fairly certain he’d been followed. Some greater story was unfolding in this portion of London that he wasn’t yet privy to, but was certainly on the outskirts of. 

“I keep myself busy enough that by the time I am in a state of stillness to be bothered by outside noise it has long fallen silent.” A half step took him to a shelf lined with immaculately bundled herbs; nothing he couldn’t find in any herbalist’s anywhere in the world but clearly treated with a care that set this shop apart. He pulled a small bundle of licorice root, a larger bundle of dried basil, and an even larger bundle of dried mint down, setting them on the counter as he turned back to look at Perry, “Though I am glad I have not disturbed you with the ruckus of unpacking a life I had to move almost seven thousand miles. If at any point I am a disturbance please let me know so I may fix that.” 

Before Perry could respond, the door opened again, the bluster of a frigid November bearing Alice in again, dried rose crown askew, with a young man, in his late teens from Ryo’s eye, right on her heels. It was difficult, however, to get too good a bead on the man accompanying Alice as he was mostly obscured behind one of the most mammoth baskets Ryo had ever seen in his life. Alice cleared a spot on the counter for him to set it down, and when he had relieved himself of his burden Ryo could get a better look at the young man who’d carried the load that would have crushed young Alice, for all her energy. He was thin, thinner even than Ryo himself, and carried himself in a way that issued to all who looked at him an apology for taking up space. But more striking than that were the violently neon blue eyes and the charcoal black veins snaking their way up his arms, the tell-tale signs of an addiction that Ryo had only heard whispered about at Mahoutokoro. 

“Ch-Chef Conrad sends apologies, Ms. Abrams.” his hands were never still, flitting from his pockets, to the buttons on his shirt, to the choker around his neck in quick succession as it appeared the young man tried and failed to keep himself grounded, “Unfortunately h-he’s in the middle of d-dinner service or he’d come himself.” 

“Thomas.” It wasn’t Perry that responded, but the handsome man who had been signing to a child over a mountain of dried roses, walking over from his portion of the shop while rolling sleeves down over arms too-muscled for a simple herbalist.  “How many days are we up to now, mijo?” 

Thomas’ face split into a slow smile, “Three weeks yesterday, Mr. Agusti.” 

Both Perry and Mr. Agusti both pulled Thomas into a tight hug, their various congratulations overlapping and weaving in and out of each other and Ryo couldn’t help but smile at the honest love and support he was currently privy to. As they pulled away Agusti clasped Thomas’ forearm, “Three weeks to be proud of. We’re proud of you for it, I know Jake is too. Remember you can always call if you need an anchor. This only works if we’re all working together.” 

The flash of genuine gratitude that illuminated Thomas’ face was pure and deep and again Ryo had the impression of a story he didn’t know all the pieces of. “Th-thanks Vic. I promise I will. If I need it. R-Rhys has been taking me to yoga with him. It’s really b-been helping.” Thomas turned from Vic to Ryo and straightened up just a little, gesturing to the massive basket on the counter which Ryo could see was filled with a smorgasbord of baked goods, jars of delicious looking preserved pickles and jams, some cleaning supplies, and at least two bottles of wine. “Chef Conrad wanted me to g-give you a heartfelt welcome to the neighborhood s-sir. He hopes you’ll come by to dine with us one evening s-so he can say so in person.” 

Ryo stuck his hand out, shaking Thomas’ firmly, “Please thank Chef Conrad for me Thomas. As soon as I have my life in any semblance of order I will make his restaurant one of my first destinations.” Releasing the hand he started to poke through the contents of the basket, nodding sagely, “As to this far-too-kind gift from what I can only assume is both Chef Conrad, Ms A-” a gentle throat clearing made him quickly backtrack, “Perry, and many others in this neighborhood… your generosity is overwhelming. I will never be able to eat all of this on my own, and I have no family on this side of the world to share it with.” He could see several ravenous glances from the children who were trying to focus on the work at hand and failing miserably, “I wonder if any of you could please help me eat Chef Conrad’s cooking with the speed and vigor it deserves.” The horde that descended on the basket was faster than their tiny legs should have made them and Victor broke away to attempt to corral them as Ryo took the two bottles of wine and some supplies, pushing his three bundles of herbs across the counter, “And I would like to purchase these as well, Perry.” 

She wrapped the herbs with care and placed them in a small bag, sliding it across the counter and patting his hand gently, “Any man who chooses to regift something special to my kids can have a few bundles of herbs on the house Ryo. This round’s on me.” 

He smiled and bowed again, pushing hair out of his face as he turned to leave the shop before a small ginger comet collided with his knees; small Alice, face covered in frosting, giving him a tight hug, “VICSAYSWEGOTTASAYTHANKYOUWHENWEGETPRESENTS.” A deep inhale and a purposeful and slow exhale gave her enough stasis and grounding to get each word out individually, “Thank you for sharing super good food, Mr. Katsuhoji.” 

“Alice. Any time I get something delicious and frosting covered I hope you are nearby to share it with.” Another hug and she vanished, back either to the fray around snacks or her pile of roses and he looked up to see that beautiful radiant smile stretch across Perry’s face. 

“Welcome to the neighborhood, Ryo. We’re very happy to have you here.” 

It had been a long and difficult move, but, in the middle of this oasis of warmth in the infancy of winter, Ryo felt the exact same way. 

[yoon-kooks]

Technical Difficulties

Pairing: Jimin x MakeupArtist!Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Tiny Angst

Summary: Jimin is infamously known for being the member who always takes the longest in the dressing room... Here’s the thing--

Warnings: Oral sex, handjob, fingering, sweet k*sses😔

Word Count: 4k

A/N: another drabble for jimin’s bday ♥︎♥︎♥︎ !

“Jimin, for the last time, please stop smiling like that.” With a huff, you lower your eyeshadow palette and brush until the rather cheerful idol decides to comply.

“Wow Y/N, I guess you hate seeing me happy. Fucking toxic.”

“You’re the toxic one. I can’t even blend out your makeup properly when you do that fucking eyesmile thing. Why do you enjoy making my job so difficult?”

“Oh no, Y/N gets to be blessed by Park Jimin’s infamous eyesmile everyday at work. What an absolute tragedy,” Seokjin snickers as he and the rest of the members walk past your makeup station. Somehow they’ve all managed to finish their makeup and are ready to start the photoshoot while you’re still lagging behind in the midst of combating Jimin’s eyesmile. If you’re the one makeup artist who gets the pink slip, you’ll know who to blame.

You watch the other members and staff file out into the corridor, leaving you alone with a smiling Jimin. The emptiness and silence of the previously chaotic dressing room only adds to the pressure for you to pick up the pace.

As you apply the boy’s reddish brown eye makeup in haste, you try to calculate how much time you have left, how much contouring you can afford to skip without anyone noticing, how much of your paycheck will be cut, how much-

“Do we have time for a quickie?”

“Oh my fucking…” You roll your eyes at Jimin. “I’m here trying to get your makeup done in a timely manner, and all you’re concerned about is that?”

“I mean, we can’t have the cameras capture this huge boner.” He looks down into his lap, expecting your eyes to follow.

“It’s really not that huge, Jimin…” you say, staring at the obvious bulge constricted by those tight leather pants. “And besides, it’s your own fucking fault for being so dirty-minded all the time.”

“But it’s not my fault you’re the one I’m always thinking about.” He gives you an innocent head tilt as if he’s not eye fucking the shit out of you. That’d be an awfully cute thing for him to say if the two of you were actually dating, but that’s certainly not the case.

“Stop flirting. It’s disgusting.” You lean in closer to paint a glossy peach tint over Jimin’s plump lips while taking a quick glance at the clock on the wall. If the photoshoot starts in twenty minutes, and it’s still going to take about fifteen minutes to apply the rest of his makeup, but you decide to skip the detailed shading and highlighting around his nose and cheeks, you might just have enough time to deal with Jimin’s little friend. “Just let me finish up your makeup, and we’ll see if there’s time,” you sigh.

With a hopeful nod, Jimin watches you hustle along. From the corner of your eye, you see one end of his mouth curve up, forming a nasty smirk on that handsome face. Despite the front you had put up, he knows you want it as much as he does. Otherwise you wouldn’t be in such a big rush.

As you blend a darker contour shade into Jimin’s flawless skin to enhance his charming features, you notice him shuffling around in his seat. And it annoys the shit out of you because you won’t have time to fix a messy contour job.

“Can you just sit still for two more seconds?” You place a firm grip just beneath his jaw to lift and steady your canvas for you to blend everything in. The makeup is so close to being finished, but you’re interrupted by the subtle clacking and undoing of a belt. “I can’t believe you’re getting off to me doing your fucking makeup.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time, babe.”

“But it will be the last if someone walks in on us,” you hiss, spraying the boy’s face with a lavender-scented mist to set his completed makeup. It’s your job on the line, not his. “You’ll get me in trouble, you little shit.” Jimin peels your hand off his chin and gets out of his chair, standing with little distance from you for just a moment before striding over to the door.

With the sound of the door shutting and locking, he spins around and walks back up to you. “You can’t get in trouble if no one catches us.” His confident, yet lustful, stare is locked onto your rosy lips.

“Yeah, but I can still get in trouble if you’re late.” You look over Jimin’s shoulder at the cockblock clock. Honestly, you wouldn’t even be opposed to the intimacy if there was more time and less risk. After all, Jimin has already expressed his feelings for you on multiple occasions. And if your career wasn’t bound to a strict no-dating policy, you probably would’ve told him you felt the same way. “Ten minutes,” you say, backing him onto the dressing room’s new grey sofa.

He watches in full focus as you unzip and free his eager self from the constraints of his expensive leather pants. Your dexterous fingers snake around him, immediately sending a jolt of blissful excitement throughout his needy body. You’ve barely touched him and a translucent lust already coats the length of his erection, lubricated and prepped for your service.

“Only someone as kinky as you would get this turned on from makeup…” You stroke as softly as possible with your thumb along the lower part of his shaft.

“You and I both know it’s not a makeup kink that does this to me,” Jimin says, his voice growing breathy, steamy, weak. He squirms in your tightening grip as a way of asking for more stimulation. You’re what makes him tick.

As soon as your hand starts gliding up and down his length, Jimin digs his nails into the cushion beneath him and throws his head back against the plush armrest. Very quickly, the shape of the sofa molds to the boy’s every movement of uncontained pleasure. His sensitivity to the intensity of your touch never ceases to amaze you.

“Mmn, Y/N…” the boy moans as he grabs your wrist and instinctively leads it right to the core of his pleasure. Finally, your thumb grazes over his glazed tip. It’s a warm pretty pink, the exact color of his cheeks beneath the caked-on makeup, just begging to be played with.

You crawl onto the sofa and hover yourself over Jimin’s lower half. As your hand continues to pump up and down in rhythm, you lick your parched lips before teasing him with a naughty tongue. The intense blood flow stiffens him and ignites an alluring heat you can’t resist as you work your way up his length. For every delicate flick of your tongue, you’re rewarded with a louder moan from Bangtan’s vocalist. You’d never tell him, but hearing his helpless moans is more than enough to set off a distracting ache between your legs.

When your tongue circles across his pink swollen tip, you’re fed a weak thrust into the back of your throat. Your half-gag, half-moan only feeds into the boy’s sinful cravings. He grasps for your tangled hair, pleading for you to take in his entire length and work your lips around him.

“F-fuck…” Jimin watches, panting as you pleasure him into the state of ecstasy. Although you’re not the one on the receiving end this time, you want to make him feel good, desired, loved. Because despite the loads of shit-talking you engage in with him, it’s all just to hide how you truly feel about him. If anyone, including Jimin, finds out you have a crush on him, you’ll surely lose your job, whether it’s at the hands of your unsatisfied boss or a crazed fan rumor. “Y/N…” His moan pierces right through your heart. “I’m close-”

“Jimin, are you still in here?” You jump off the sofa like a startled kitten and throw yourself across the room when you hear Namjoon’s voice from the other side of the door. Even the slightest possibility of getting caught is enough to keep you miles away from Jimin. You walk over to the sink to clean yourself up and throw a towel at the boy left on the sofa. Only then do you notice the time on the clock, and immediately your heart sinks. He’s late because of you.

Jimin glances at you, who looks like a deer in headlights. He strides over and uses his chubby thumb to wipe away the last bit of sin from the corner of your lips. “Don’t worry, I’ll handle it,” he whispers into your ear, more to be seductive than to prevent Namjoon from hearing. “And like always, I’ll return the favor after the shoot, yeah?”

You nod, but you worry about the consequences as the two of you exit the dressing room to rejoin the rest of the members and staff on the set.

You watch as Jimin lies about “technical difficulties” with smudged makeup to the members in front of the green screen. “It’s my fault,” he says. You notice the other makeup artists rolling their eyes and making gossip out of Jimin’s poor excuse. You’re fairly confident they all have something against you because of the “special treatment” you receive from the idol, and you can’t really blame them.

Throughout the photoshoot, you wonder how Jimin can go from a hot and horny mess with you to a pristine and professional model in front of the camera. The deception and duality of Park Jimin is quite deadly. So deadly that in between shots, you make it a point to be as brief as possible in touching up his makeup. Not only do you want to avoid rumors and animosity by your coworkers, but you also want to avoid Jimin himself. After all, your dilemma originates back to the complex relationship between you and him.

By the time the director finally calls it a day, it’s late and you’re exhausted. In the middle of gulping down a chilled bottle of water, you’re dragged away into one of the vacant changing rooms. There you stand, sandwiched between a pile of unfolded clothes and a concerned Jimin.

“Y/N, you know I’m sorry about earlier, right?” He runs his fingers down the side of your cheek to just beneath your chin.

“You’re going to get me fired one of these days, you dummy,” you speak softly. “Hopefully not today.”

“You won’t be fired, I promise.” His innocent eyes make you want to believe him, so you look away and distract yourself with his ugly ass designer shirt.

“There’s only so much you can promise, Jimothy.” Your fingers unconsciously fidget with the buttons on his shirt to help him get undressed.

“You know I always keep my promises, babe,” he says while stripping off his ugly shirt to reveal a healthy physique. It’s true that the boy doesn’t break promises, but you still think it’s playing with fire.

But before you know it, your legs are spread out on the bench for Jimin to do as he pleases. He pulls your leggings down to your ankles and slips two fingers into your soaked lace panties. With every tiny touch between your legs, his fingers become coated in your glaze. The moment he locates your swollen bud, your body jerks backwards with a soft moan. “S-shit Jimin, someone’s going to catch us in here-”

The boy muffles your panting voice with a soft yellow sleeve of the clean sweater he’s got an arm through. “Then save all of your naughty sounds for later,” he smirks at you even though you don’t know exactly what he’s implying.

“Jimin, hurry up and change. We wanna go to the BBQ place already,” Jungkook knocks on the other side of the door.

“I’ll be done in a sec,” Jimin calls back. But despite what he says, the fingers keep teasing you between your legs, up and down, in and out, and it takes everything in you to not let a single sound escape your mouth.

“Why the fuck does the shortest always take the longest…?” The hungry maknae mumbles until his voice fades into the distance. You’re safe to breath again, your chest heaving up and down in both relief and heat.

“Wanna grab dinner too?” Jimin pulls away with the pleasure and blinks at what a hot mess you are, as if his fingers weren’t shoved inside you just a second ago. It’s over. Any real intimacy between you and the boy ends before it could begin.

You pull up your leggings and shake your head. “I should get home.” It’d be too obvious if Jimin brought you along to eat with the other members anyway. “But have fun with the guys,” you say, softly tousling his hair.

For a moment, he gazes into your eyes, searching for a different answer. But no matter how hard or long he looks, you can’t change your mind. You just want to go home where you can get off in peace without worrying about your job or your feelings.

Eventually the boy gives up because he throws on the rest of his clothes and opens the changing room door just a crack to make sure the coast is clear. The two of you successfully sneak out and go your separate ways as if nothing sketchy had happened behind closed doors. As he rejoins his fellow members to depart for a huge feast, you grab your bag from the makeup room and prepare for your commute home.

On your way out of the building, you think about what to eat for dinner. You had planned to cook yourself an elaborate hearty meal after a long day at work, but you’re really not in the mood anymore. Fried chicken delivery, on the other hand, sounds delicious. And you can already smell the peppery spiced seasoning, your stomach growling in response.

You’re so distracted by the rumbling in your stomach as you walk through the lobby that you almost smack your face into an actual bucket of fried chicken.

“Aren’t you going to that BBQ place?” You look up at the boy in a soft yellow sweater holding the bucket before your eyes wander off to the steamy crispy snack.

“I told the guys to go without me,” he shrugs and offers the bucket to you. “I’ll take you home after we eat.”

You take a tiny piece of chicken even though your stomach tells you to take the whole bucket and run. Part of you wants to believe he’s only after the unfinished sex, but you already know his feelings go beyond that. “You know you’re not obligated to choose me over the guys…” Especially when the two of you don’t even have a defined relationship beyond the fact that he’s an idol and you’re his makeup artist.

“I know,” Jimin pops a chicken into his mouth. “But I just like hanging out with my favorite makeup artist. Is that a crime?”

“Yeah, it’s actually a big fucking crime in the idol industry, and you know it,” you laugh bitterly at how cruel the world is. The boy doesn’t laugh with you because he knows it’s the sad truth.

“Look, I know it’s selfish of me to keep wanting more when it only puts your job at risk…” He sets the bucket of chicken aside on a nearby table. “And I’m sorry there’s only so much I can promise, Y/N… But I really just wanna be with you.” You hate that he feels selfish and guilty for feeling things that he can’t control. You’re no different. You’re also guilty of not being able to resist the temptation that is Park Jimin.

“You don’t need to apologize for anything, Jimin,” you cup his cheeks. “I can assure you you’re not the only one who wants more despite the risks.” It’s the first time you’ve hinted at mutual feelings for the boy, but you certainly hope he picks up on it.

“Good to know, bub,” He picks the chicken back up and places it in your hands. “Shall we take you home?”

-

You’ve barely stepped inside your apartment when Jimin scoops you up and lays you down on your pink bed with cute little bunny pillows.

Without hesitation, he climbs over you and grazes his lips ever so slightly against the nape of your neck. A rather gentle trail of love bites traces the curves of your body as his nimble fingers unclothe you piece by piece. When only your lace panties remain, Jimin backs away to examine, or perhaps admire, your bare body and all of its features. He lets out a soft chuckle as his eyes wander from above.

“What?” Your face heats up as you use your hand to barely cover your peeking chest, now feeling a tad self-conscious.

“I didn’t know you had such a cute bed.” His eyes shift from your upper half to the bunny pillows. Sometimes you forget he’s never seen you outside of work, let alone had sex with you in an actual bed. “But I suppose there’s a lot of things I still don’t know about you.”

“Do you want to know more about me?” you ask as you tug on his yellow sweater for it to come off. As soon as he obliges, you take the hand that had covered your chest and slip it around to the back of the boy’s neck to pull him closer. Rather than the hot sex-craved eyes you’re used to, you look up at eyes that reflect warmth and tenderness.

Jimin nods, waiting innocently for you to enlighten him. But instead of talking about your secret crush or your love for fried chicken, you bring your lips up to his. His entire body freezes for a split second before allowing your tongue further access. You can’t really blame him for his surprised reaction when it’s the first time the two of you locked lips. For as much sex that happens at work, you had always made a conscious effort to avoid k*sses, in hopes of not catching the feels that come along with it. Perhaps it’s because you’re in the safety and privacy of your bedroom that you let those walls down—even if it’s only temporary.

Absorbed in the new found intimacy, Jimin’s sly tongue keeps you occupied as he slides his hand down your abdominals to your panties, soaked once more with a long-awaited desire. Like magic, he replaces the lace with his fingers and presses into your folds. You don’t appreciate, however, how he elects your clit as the resting spot for the tip of his chubby finger to chill. But you suppose this is part of the long drawn out foreplay you usually miss out on in your quickies at work.

“Jimin… hurry... up…” You finally break off the kiss and try to threaten him but it comes out more like a plea. And it certainly doesn’t help that you’re already this needy when he’s barely touched you.

“What’s that, babe? I can’t hear you through all that panting,” he asks, casually adding an ounce of pressure against your clit. The throbbing at his finger tip sends a jolt of pleasure through your spine.

“F-fucking move your fingers already,” your back arches up as a hushed moan slips from your throat.

“Louder, babe.” He curls his fingers just enough to flick your excited little bud. You hate that you let a louder sound escape so easily when you hear the boy’s command. And if your eyes weren’t shut to cope with the pleasure, you’d be able to see his satisfaction at your submissive state.

After what feels like years of nothing but minimal relief and maximum frustration, Jimin lifts his fingers from your core and makes you watch as he licks off your dripping glaze with that long tongue of his. From the tips of his fingers, he works his way down to the place between your legs. You feel his hot breath teasing you to prolong the anticipation, your core aching and twitching to be played with.

“Jimin…” you whimper the boy’s name, in hopes that it’ll be enough to get his tongue where you want it.

A warm sensation suddenly washes over you. His tongue glides up and down, just barely avoiding your bud but getting a little closer each time. Your fingers grasp the pink bed sheets as you attempt to shift yourself into a better position to be eaten out.

When the taunting tongue finally finds your bud, Jimin swirls around it until it’s swollen enough to put his lips around. You feel a light pressure sucking away between your legs, taking your bud into his mouth and fondling the tip with his tongue. Your head is thrown back against the bunny pillows through the heat.

“Mmn…” You squirm and moan to his every touch, tangling your fingers into his hair in a helpless manner. You want him to be rougher, harder.

Somehow Jimin picks up on this and sneaks a pair of fingers to fill your hole as his tongue continues to play with your clit. In and out, he dips his digits and curls them deep inside of you. Before you know it, your body is thrusting up against the rhythm of his fingers and tongue because he’s found the right spots to hit.

You roll your hips faster in a heated state, practically fucking the boy’s face for as much as he allows. The only way he gets your body to stop acting on its own is when he fingers and sucks you hard enough to push you over the edge. “Jimin, I’m gonna—ahh…!”

You’re overcome by an intense flood of pleasure from all the built-up stimulation in your most sensitive spots. Wild thoughts of Jimin fucking you fade in and out of mind as the orgasm hits you in waves, your walls tightening around his fingers. Your stream of piercing moans is proof that Jimin knows far too well how your body likes to be fed. And you have to admit, it feels really fucking good to not have to hide any of that.

As your breathing starts to calm, Jimin tosses himself next to you on the bed and tugs at your cheek. You roll your body over to face him, wondering if he wants you to pleasure him next. But to your surprise, he just pulls up a blanket and brings your tired body closer to his until the tip of your nose grazes his chest. You can hear his heart still racing.

The longer you lay pressed against the boy’s chest, the more you hope he doesn’t have to leave so soon. So you don’t say anything to him. You just stay as close to his heart as you can.

“I like this,” he says, massaging your back with his fingers.

“You mean sleeping together in an actual bed for once?” you chuckle.

He shakes his head, “No… well, I mean yeah… But I meant I like spending time with you alone. Sex or not.” His words tug at your heart’ strings. “Just like this.”

You’re silent for a long minute to take in his words and gather your thoughts. But even after all that thinking, all you can say is, “I like it too.”

“I’m glad, babe,” he plants a soft kiss on your forehead.

“By the way, what excuse did you use to get out of the BBQ thing?” You only ask because you might be able to spend a few extra hours with the boy, depending on the type of excuse he made up.

“I told the guys about you and me.”

“Jimothy.” You’re struck with a minor dose of panic.

“Don’t worry, those dorks won’t tell anyone else,” his beautiful eyesmile puts you at ease. “Besides, now that they know, I’ll be able to sneak out of the dorms more often and stay longer~” That does seem like quite a good deal.

“…including tonight?” Your face burns as the invitation slips from your mouth.

“Do you want me to stay the night, babe?” He dreamily gazes into your eyes and rubs your rosy cheek with his thumb. Alone time to express how you truly feel about him is exactly what you need. Maybe only then will you begin to understand the complexities of the relationship between an idol and his makeup artist.

You nod before leaning in to give him a long goodnight kiss.

[cjostrander]

Dir En Grey: The Insulated World

Hello guys! Today i decided to do another promo review and tackle the latest album by Dir en grey. I had a little extra time today so i wanted to make use of it and scratch off a longer album that i usually would of backed off on. This album features a continuation of their sound on Arche (reviewed) but with a very rough combination of their chaotic rawness found on Marrow of a Bone. Hopefully this album goes by pretty smooth but time will tell.

Keibetsu to Hajimari: We begin very abruptly with aggressive drum bashing and rhythmic guitar riffs before Kyo arrives to deliver a chaotic growl segment. It is a pretty muffled under the mix but builds a decent level of aggression that would showcase decent live. The bass needs a stronger presence to fill in things since it feels a little empty underneath everything. Kyo continues to demonstrate that he can deliver his chaotic vocal style without any issue. This song so far compares more heavily to their Dum Spiro Spero (reviewed) style of chaotic yet complex metal. It is definitely a more direct yet still heavily complex jammer that would be best appreciated in a live setting verses album style. It feels like it could use some sort of melodic solo in it to bring out some more flavor and a stronger bass line as well. Other than that it won’t match expectations set on Arche but will please fans of Dum Spiro Spero and Marron of a Bone. 7.5/10

Devote My Life: The next track starts off a fast marching style drum beat and brings forth a stronger bass line to combine with Kyo’s aggressive grow vocals. The bass is highly appreciated but the high pitch guitar riffs get highly annoying to the ears till they go away. Then we go into a very nice bass breakdown that would showcase perfectly live and showcase exactly what the last song could of used. This one would definitely be much higher appreciated if that guitar screeching riff wasnt incorporated because its probably the most fucking annoying riff i’ve heard on an album; and its doesn’t let up until the end. Other than that the vocals are decent but don’t capture direct focus like they usually do and the the bass/drum combo proves to be the highlight on here. This is one that i recommend skipping and wish wasn’t on this album. 4/10

Ningen wo Kaburu (Single): This is the first single on the album and it starts off with a nicely melodic opening combined with a strong drum entrance. It has a nicely complex strutcure that joins with the guitars to create a stronger and more coherent presence than the last song. Kyo is still utilizing his muffled growl style which works but isnt a focal point as typical till the chorus arrives. When the chorus arrives it demonstrates his skill and really provides a little life to the album. Its also the first show of real melody in the album thus far. The jams are solid and will showcase well live and do stand out as the stronger track so far in the album. I would recommend listening to this one if you are browsing because it will compare a bit to their sound on Arche but with a little polish left off purposely. 8/10

Celebrate Empty Howls: The drums and guitars start off with a complex yet familiar opening before Kyo arrives to inject an interesting dose of chaotic verses into the mix. It goes into a standard jam segment that will allow the listener to decompress a hair while still being presented with an interesting drum performance to soak in. The drums are probably the most consistently strong element on this album and are worth a focus. The atmospherically tense melodies in the song allow for some appreciated spacing in order for the listener to avoid being too overwhelmed by whats going on. Despite being a rougher album from them so far; i can see some strong live potential from it and it does move along a bit faster than expected; however the songs are appreciating shorter in response. Most tracks are under 4 minutes and it makes a big difference in ability to take in as opposed to their more ambiotious 5 to 7+ minutes songs. 7.5/10

Utafumi (Single): This is the second and final single of the album which came out a few years before the actual album release. It’s different from the original release but is probably my personal favorite on the album. It begins with a powerful drum bash and chaotic yet purposeful growls before giving the listener a brief moment of emptiness to soak in. The instrumentals then go into full speed with a chaotic level of bashing and backing growls; that give it a decent gang texture. The chorus is melodic and powerful thus thriving on Kyo’s ballad qualities. The guitars are more subdued in a supportive role which works out decent for the mix; though some brief solo flares are thrown in to give it some more flavor. Zero complaints on the drum work because the bass flows with them solidly and they pretty much command the speed on the song while showcasing most of the technicality in it as well. The guitars are still complex but where as they dominate past work; they stay in a supportive jam role. Because of this; you will come to appreciate this one as a drum showcased album. 8.5/10

Rubbish Heap: We begin here with electronic loops which are interesting and provide a little diversity before the instrumentals arrive. The drums are chaotically bashing their way around in this song while the guitars roar and Kyo matches them with his chaotic show of force. This one actually stands out nicely when focused on for its technicality and live appeal; because it would be perfect for getting an audience crazy. It benefits from listening in album sequence since you really have to be in the right mindset to enjoy this style of music; otherwise it’s going to overwhelm you fast. 8.5/10

Aka: The second half of the album begins with a pleasingly echoed guitar melody that creates a very ideal atmosphere to decompress and soak in some complex emotion. The bass showcases very nicely with the bass and Kyo enters with his spoken verse style that is much appreciated at this point in the album. The subtle guitar melodies fill in gaps nicely while the the rhythm segments remain the signature component of the song. It all combines nicely to really get a powerful sense of emotion from Kyo. This track highlights the brightest moments of their last album Arche and hopefully will make first time listeners venture off to that album when they are done with this one. This one is a very nice surprise that is easily my personal favorite on the album thus far. 9.5/10

Value of Madness: Electronic rhythm components begin this one and the drum arrive with a nice sense of muscle. The guitars arrives to give it a bit more of a rock vibe. Kyo showcases a near rap like style at moments that actually works very nicely with the instrumental style. It will showcase very highly live and Kyo’s aggressive yet highly melodic chorus will be a nice bonding glue to push this song along nicely. This second half of the album so far is shaping up to be the easier listen for their more melodic focused fan base. It still has a very strong combination of their sound from Marrow of a Bone, Dum Spiro Spero, and Arche in it; so if you like this album those are your three companion albums as well. Maybe throw Uroboros in there as well since it’s more aggressive moments are comparable; though its focuses more melodic moments heavier. 8.5/10

Downfall: This one begins with a quick push into chaos riffs that are less substance centered and focus solely on being as intensely furious as possible. It gives ample spacing between those moments to keep it feeling as coherent as best as possible. It is a decently quick track at just under three minutes so while it doesn’t really do anything for me it’s not terrible to sit through. It seems mainly like a garage jam kind of track. 6.5/10

Followers: Some eerie sound effects start and combine with some interesting electronic elements that bring a nicely atmospheric texture to the track. It has a nice show of guitar presence that will establish a strong foundation for Kyo to deliver his ballad style of vocals. The drums and bass continue to showcase neatly in the mix and keep this track from feeling empty. Kyo gets a hair overpitched at times but it still presents itself as the right track to have at the right time on this album. The guitar solo is a very strong highlight that will be worth the focus and allows for guitar fans to be able to find some riffs to savor over. 8.5/10

Keigaku no Yoku:  Keys begin and continue the melodic nature of the last track but with a stronger darkness and complexity to it. The vocals arrive over it with an eerie sense of tension that would be fit for a horror scene. The drums and bass provide some nice blast style rhythm that brings some elements of Slipknot to the mix. It then all goes into a chaotic jam that would get the audience roaring. It focuses primarily on its eerie rhythm that to me probably means the bassist wrote this one; since naturally his tracks feature the bass as the primary component and bare stronger jazz elements in it as well. This is another highlight track that is making this album shape up to be a much stronger one than i originally thought. 9/10

Zetsuentai: This seven and a half minute long track begins with more eerie sound effects and melodic guitar riffs. The bass and drums space themselves out to give the song a very airy opening. Kyo uses a soft spoken and melodic vocal style to develop a decent level of class. The bass and drums dominate the instrumental support for Kyo while the guitars focus on tossing in melodic tinged riffs to fill in the background. It places heavier focus on Kyo’s voice though instrumentals will space it out enough so that there is a lot of substance for the listener to soak in. Vocally i am still waiting on Kyo to bring a stronger sense of power into his voice so this lengthy track will feel as such...lengthy lol. They bring forth a show of aggressive jamming and growl vocals to liven things up effectively though it still feels like it needs something to really set a spark off.The guitars do begin to showcase with some decent solos; so you will have to look forward to. 7/10

Ranunculus: This finale track starts off with an eerie sound effect that is a ambient in nature and gradually grows more melodically dark and complex and Kyo arrives. It has a decent bass rhythm to ground things and the instrumentals gradually grow in life. Kyo delivers a pretty strong chorus that is a bit muffled by the guitars but still showcases strong melodies and a suitable range for the listener to appreciate. The guitars over time grow to give his chorus a nice show of power that should be a pleasantly beautiful way to close out this album. 8.5/10

Overall album rating: 7.8/10

Definitely a decent drop in score from Arche, but it’s surprisingly a better album than i thought it would be. Listening to it when it first came out reminded me of my impression of Dum Spiro Spero and Marrow of a Bone where i hated it at first and didnt understand it; but gradually came to appreciate it over time. I think Dum Spiro Spero is the strongest of the three albums i mentioned with this one arguably in the middle of them. It’s a decent jam album that will take time for you to decide an opinion but it’s still worth checking out if you are a strong fan of the group. If you are new and are curious about their other work then check out Arche, Kisou, and Vulgar. Those three are my personal favorites from the band. Withering to death is another favorite that is worth a listen as well. I gotta head out now so thanks for taking the time read my review and i’ll see you next time!

[djinn-and-djuice]

(Travis said that Fjord used to be a sailor, and he has the sailor background, and. Well. There was the whole thing with his falchion. I am a huge maritime history/sailing nerd, so this felt like an extremely personal callout, and here we are. This is all wild speculation, and likely to be disproved, and god damn it was fun to write. Much love and credit to @cobaltpilot​ for being my cheering section! also on ao3)

[no spoilers, but draws on details from campaign 2 episode 3, “The Midnight Chase”]

the call of the running tide

~*~

This is how it starts.

Two men walk into a bar. One of them is more well-dressed than the other, but neither of them are by any means ‘fancy.’ Fancy folk come from the capital, and they don’t waste their time in a dockside sailor’s dive. From his perch in the corner, Fjord watches them scan the crowd with half an eye.

His interest is piqued when Fjord sees one of them point to him and ask his companion something, he already knows what’s being said. Port Damali isn’t so big that one can be ignorant of their reputation.

The rundown is likely very brief. His name is Fjord, he’s a half-orc who likes a bit of whiskey and a bit of dice. He’s spent five years before the mast, but he could be a bosun or a navigator if he got the chance. Maybe even a captain, if that kind of money weren’t so damn hard to come by. He’s a steady hand and a reliable one too, he’ll work for whoever pays fairly, and that’s all that anyone knows about him. To be fair, that’s all they need to know, and this isn’t a town where people ask a whole lot of unnecessary questions.

“I hear you’re a good sailor,” the man says by way of introduction. “May I sit?”

His momma didn’t raise him to be rude, so he nods. “I’m Shane Corrigan, first mate on the Sylph,” he goes on, setting down across from Fjord. “We’re making a voyage to Marquet in a fortnight, and we’re looking for crew.”

The rest of his spiel is boilerplate, all stuff Fjord’s heard a dozen times before. They’re shipping goods; timber and furs and stuff that Fjord can’t imagine has much appeal in the desert, but somehow sells anyway. The pay is good, better than he was expecting, likely because the trip’ll be so damn long.

In the end, that’s not why he holds his hand out to Shane and says “you got yourself a deal.” He can feel the sea calling in his veins, and the thought of four month’s voyage is a good one.

 ~~~

 Fjord’s love of the sea is a long one, begun when he was a child. The tide called to him, and as soon as he was old enough to sail his own skiff he would spend countless hours cruising around. He learned how to read the stars and the wind, how to set course and canvas and one’s feet in a gale. 

So when the Sylph sets out from Port Damali on a bright morning, Fjord hangs a little longer in the shrouds to look out at the dark water and breathe.

The crew quickly settles into rhythm and the first two weeks pass by without much interest. There are a couple greenhorns on the crew, and they take a little while to find their feet, and Fjord spends much of his free time helping them.

Halfway to Marquet, Captain Moore switches up the watch rotations and Fjord is tasked with going belowdecks and making sure everything is fine with the cargo. It’s a necessary job, if tedious, mostly involving killing any rats that made it aboard and making sure nothing’s been disturbed. No one’s reported anything so far, so when he notices a bear pelt that’s been dragged out of one of the crates and set high up, it gives him more than a little pause. He doesn’t make a sound, climbs up quickly and quietly as anything, and pulls the knife out of his boot.

Curled up on the pelt asleep is a young woman with dark skin and fire-red hair. Well. A stowaway isn’t what he was expecting, but it’s not the worst thing he could have found. He shoves the knife back in its sheath and shakes her awake. 

“I don’t recognize you from the crew roster,” he quips.

Bright gold eyes flicker open, and focus on him. In an instant she is up and pressed against the hull, eyes darting around. There’s nowhere to run on a ship, and she seems keenly aware of that.

“What’s your name?”

“Sallah,” she replies, still tense.

“My name’s Fjord. I’m not gonna hurt you, Sallah,” he says, “but you understand we’re not too keen on stowaways here.”

“Please don’t turn me in,” she begs. “I can’t go back to Wildemount, I have to get out of there.”

Before he can even ask why, she’s launching into a hurried, frightened explanation that he honestly has a hard time following. It’s a long, somewhat rambling tale of misunderstandings and scapegoating and the gist of it, as far as Fjord understands, is that Sallah was in the wrong place at the wrong time, in a town of people who were all too willing to shove blame on an outsider.

Anywhere else Fjord would consider it a sob story used to con someone out of a favor or some coin. But he can see the fear in her eyes, and he knows that people don’t become stowaways on a lark. And hells, he knows as well as anyone that he’s got a soft spot as wide as the Wuyun Gorge. So he holds out a placating hand, even as the other is rubbing at his temple.

“Alright, alright, you can stay. The rest of the crew might not be so understanding, and if you get caught I don’t know you. But I won’t turn you in.”

“Thank you Fjord, thank you so much. You won’t even know I’m here.”

 ~~~

 The next few days, Sallah is as good as her word. If he hadn’t seen her himself, Fjord wouldn’t have believed there were any extra souls on board at all. The pelt she had been napping on got stowed away, and he hasn’t seen it out of its crate since they met. Still, he takes some of the hardtack from his meal and saves it, bringing it down to the hold when he does a patrol.

“Sallah?” He calls quietly. “It’s Fjord. I brought you some food.”

A tiny mouse skitters up on top of a box in front of Fjord, and in an instant, shifts into Sallah. He’s so taken aback that he completely forgets about what he was doing in favor of staring blankly at her. He’s heard of shapeshifters, obviously, mages that can change their appearance at will, but there is a wide gulf between the experience of hearing about it and seeing it firsthand.

“That’s how I’ve been staying hidden,” she smiles, hopping off the box to stand in front of him.

“That’s damn impressive,” he replies, handing the chunks of tough biscuit over. “How do you do that?”

“I learned when I was little,” she explains. “My people are very inclined to magic, natural magic especially.” With a flourish of her fingers, a small flame dances in her hand.

“My family didn’t have a whole lot of formal traditions, but I was taught how to focus energy and make it do what I want. I taught myself pretty much everything else.” She shrugs, extinguishes the flame, and digs into the hardtack.

“Can you teach me?” He doesn’t know what drives him to ask. Magic has never been a prominent part of his life-never more than bits of bone scrimshawed with runes and shells hung to ask the Wildmother’s favor for a safe voyage-but he has always been fascinated by the idea of it. To see someone command such power with so much ease is compelling.

“I don’t know how much I’ll be able to teach you in a week and a half, but I’ll try.”

He goes about his patrol while she finishes eating. When he comes back, she’s sitting with her chin on her hand in thought.

“Can I ask a favor?” She asks after a long moment.

“Sure,” he shrugs.

“Would you help me get up top? I’ll make myself small, into a mouse or something, something you can carry. I’ve been belowdecks this whole voyage and some fresh air would be nice.”

“’Course I can,” he says, standing up and holding his hand out. A blink, and she turns into a tiny grey mouse and skitters up his arm.

The sun is almost set when they come up top, and Fjord takes a moment to enjoy the scene. The setting sun paints the deck orange and red, and with the ocean lit up as well it’s one of the most beautiful things Fjord has ever seen. The two moons are barely visible on the eastern horizon, slivers of bone in a lavender sky.

There is a sudden flash of light, and the whole crew looks up to see a bright flash of light at the end of each mast and spar, burning blue-white flames that are gone as soon as they come.

Fjord had seen them once before, on a voyage to Tal’Dorei, one of his first long-distance journeys. One of the older hands called it “The Wildmother’s Beacon”, but he’s heard it referred to by any number of names since then. It’s all anyone can talk about as the crew gets the ship ready for the night shift, so no one notices the companion tucked under the collar of his coat.

 ~~~

 “It’s not hard, you just have to learn to listen.”

Sallah coaches him for an hour or so every day when Fjord comes down to the hold, and this has been a common theme. Listening to the natural world around him, the ebb and flow of the tide, the push of the breeze, he needs to listen to everything. And he tries, he really does, but by the time they make port in Marquet, Fjord feels like he’s made no progress whatsoever.

“I just feel like I oughta be better than this.”

“It’s only been a week,” Sallah rolls her eyes. “And we barely have an hour a day to work. I’ve been practicing magic since I was little more than a babe.”

“Sometimes books help,” she goes on, more gently, “If you can get to the Dwendalian Empire, I’ve heard that Zadash has some great libraries, and if you can’t find something there then you’ll definitely find it in Rexxentrum. There are a lot of different paths to magic, and if one doesn’t work you shouldn’t be afraid to try another.”

 ~~~

 The Bay of Gifts is chaotic and colorful and decadent, and as much as Fjord wants to enjoy it he won’t be able to until he’s sure that Sallah has made it off the boat without incident. He drinks a couple rounds in the tavern with some other members of the crew before taking a meandering walk down the lamplit streets.

He hears rapid footsteps coming up behind him, and turns to see Sallah running up to him.

“Fjord!” She calls. “I’m glad I found you, I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye.”

“I’m glad too. Any idea what you’re going to do?”

She shrugs, smiling. “None whatsoever. But I’ll figure something out. I’ve always had a knack with growing things, maybe that’s where I’ll start.”

“You’ll do just fine.”

“That’s very kind of you, my friend.” She hugs him, and Fjord can feel the slight shake in her shoulders as he hugs her back.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

The moment passes, and she steps back. “I’ll stay here for a while, but if this doesn’t work out I’ll go to Ank’Harel. Don’t be a stranger,” she says, and walks off into the warm night.

 ~~~

 The voyage back begins much like the trip there. Clear skies and fair winds, and given how much lighter the ship is that means they make very good time.

On the fifth day, the lookout spots a storm building behind them, and it quickly becomes apparent that they’re not going to be able to outrun it. Captain Moore hollers for all hands to take in sail and two dozen of them are in the shrouds, climbing as quickly as they dare, scuttling across beams and hauling canvas hand over hand.

Back on the deck, the only thing left to do is heave to, tie down, and hope. The sky blackens, lightning forks, and Fjord mutters words of comfort to the young hands as they move belowdecks.

“This ain’t my first storm,” he says, with more confidence in his voice than he really feels. “Keep your head and you’ll be fine.”

The rain beats down on the deck, trickling through the battens and down into the bilge. The flashes of lightning get brighter and brighter, the crashes of thunder grow deafening. The ship lists from starboard to port and then hard to starboard again, and the only warning they get that something has gone terribly wrong is the hull creaking loudly before the sound of splintering wood comes from above on the deck.

Fjord goes up top just in time to watch the main-mast, struck by lightning, come crashing down across the deck in a mess of wood and metal. Captain Moore was at the helm when the storm began, but Fjord has no idea if he’s still there. Or still alive.

The ship begins to tilt under the unbalanced weight, and there’s precious little time before she’s on her beam ends and capsizes. Fjord yells for the rest of the crew and they leap into action, moving everything they can to the other side of the ship to buy themselves a bit of time to get rid of the broken mast.

It’s no use, though, because before they can finish the deck is pitched at such a steep angle no one can stand anymore, and Fjord is in the water. Lashed by the rain and the wind, he struggles to stay above the surface. One piece of the mast is still floating, and he swims over to cling to it. It’s all he can do to hold on as massive waves pitch and roll him.

Finally, the storm moves on, revealing the night sky. Fjord looks around, but he can’t see the rest of the crew anywhere, and the gods only know where he’s been blown. He recognizes the stars, and which way he’s probably heading, but that’s all meaningless if he can’t figure out where he is.

It would still be meaningless even if he knew where he was, since he has no way to get home.

Exhausted, he closes his eyes. The waves lap around him, and now that the winds have calmed it’s the only thing he can hear. Remembering Sallah’s words he listens, hoping that if these are his last moments, he at least hears something. But nothing comes. The last ounce of strength in his arms slowly fades, and he loses grip on the mast, sinking beneath the waves.

“Is that it? Are you giving up?”

It’s little more than a whisper, sourceless in the dark. Fjord almost thinks he imagines it, until it keeps going.

“All those storms you’ve weathered and you just give up? You’re stronger than that. Open your eyes.”

Somehow, he finds the will to creak his eyes open. He sees a glow in the water, a faint shimmer of phosphoresence that draws his attention. He’s seen glow like that before, in much warmer waters. He pulls the strength from somewhere within him and twists around towards it.

“There it is. You could bring the tides themselves to heel with that will.”

There’s no way to tell which way is up, but he swims toward the light. His limbs carve long, slow strokes through the black brine, and his lungs begin to burn.

“If only you had the power to match it.”

His face breaks the surface of the water and he gasps.

“I can help you with that.”

“Fuckin’ prove it.” Fjord replies because hell, what has he got to lose?

He hears a distant, whispery laugh, and darkness takes him.

 ~~~

 He dreams about a forge. The steady, ringing beat of a hammer against hot metal. He dreams of black sails and smoke. He dreams of blue-white fire and the beasts that sleep beneath the waves. He dreams of a blade.

He wakes up.

That’s the first surprising thing. The second, and rather more surprising thing, is that he wakes up on a beach. His clothes are tattered but still keep most of the chill away, so once he picks the kelp off he slowly gets to his feet and walks inland. The people he finds in the nearest village are surprised to see him walking out of the sea, but they take it with good enough grace.

Turns out he’s washed up on the southern end of the Menagerie Coast, and when he tells the folk in town his story they find him someone willing to help him get passage north.

The first leg of his journey back to Port Damali is in the back of a hay cart, and his thoughts are consumed by the odd voice he heard the night the Sylph went down. There’s something in the back of his head, it feels like an itch on the inside of his skull and the more he focuses on it the clearer it gets. His hands move on their own, and before he really knows what he’s doing a spectral hand appears in front of him.

“Oh shit.”

 ~~~

 The trip northward is long and slow, but this new revelation gives Fjord something to focus on. He thinks about that itch in the back of his head, of the way his hands shifted and the feeling of pulling invisible rigging. For three days’ travel he sits in silence and meditates, and on the fourth day he finally feels like he’s done something right. He sees a shimmer across his arms and with a thought his skin turns from green to royal purple. He focuses again, and it turns paper white. He can’t contain the giddy grin on his face as he shifts colors, and it only grows wider as he learns how to tug in a different way and the taper of his fingers change, his nails grow and shrink and his arms gain and lose muscle.

That night, he has another dream. Of a rocky, wind whipped beach sheltered by bleak cliffs. He recognizes it from stories; the Shearing Channel, a stretch of water so treacherous that no ship can sail through it. Distantly, like a rising wind, he hears the voice again, for the first time since the wreck.

“Come find me. We have much to discuss.”

 ~~~

 By the time he arrives in Port Damali, he has a small amount of gold that he earned doing odd jobs along the trip. He thanks his traveling companions for their aid and parts ways, heading to the nearest general store to buy a few road provisions and a bedroll. He doesn’t seek out further passage northward, he just walks out of the city and follows the stars.

When he makes his way through the woods, he can tell that he’s close to the channel from the smell of salt and the whistling of the wind. The cliffs on the edge of the channel are tall, but not solid, more akin to shorn-off hills now that he’s seeing them from this side. He picks his way between them, and makes his way down to the waterline.

On a clear day, you can see Tal’Dorei across the channel, the white rise of the Alabaster Sierras on the edge of the horizon like a dragon’s spine. Days like that are few and far between; today the sky is leaden, and fog hangs low and oppressive over the rough water.

This. This is the place. He knows that what he’s been called to is here, as sure as he was born. He wades into the surf.

The water is frigid, tossed as it is by the constant winds. But that tug, that inexorable, tidal pull, is drawing him deeper and deeper beneath the waves. He feels his lungs begin to ache but still he dives down, looking for something, anything.

To his right there is a flash of blue light, like the fey light he saw coming off the spars of the Sylph. He looks over and sees the hilt of a sword, stuck between stones. A faint blue glow wafts off of it, and he reaches out.

Once, when he was young, he made the mistake of wrapping a line around his wrist, so when a brisk wind caught his sail it pulled his arm out of its socket. He never made the mistake again, just like he never forgot the feeling of his shoulder being shoved back into place. A hard pop, and then everything was where it needed to be.

The feeling of pulling the sword out of the crevice is exactly like that, only without knowing that anything had ever been out of joint to begin with. The grip fits in Fjord’s hand like it was carved exactly for him.

He swims back to the shore and examines the blade. It’s a falchion, long and broad and positively wicked looking. The hand guard is crusted with barnacles, but the blade itself is completely clear of rust. And even though the seawater has finished running off of Fjord, there’s still rivulets running off the blade and pouring onto the stones.

“Hello there,” he says.

“Hello yourself,” the blade replies.

This is how it starts. Fjord stands on the rocky shores of the Shearing Channel, dripping seawater and holding a barnacle-encrusted sword in his hands. The waves pound the beach in time with his heart, rising past his knees and it should be pulling him back under but it’s not. He holds the blade up to his ear, and he listens.

[ballbrandon94]

Reiki Master Training Cost Creative And Inexpensive Tricks

Another example is in control of the non-traditional forms that help in the aura of well-being and feeling, security, and relaxation that also promotes healing and teaching Reiki but learning from others far less experienced.Even if you work in this way is creating change at a glance, are as following: clear quartz, amethyst and citrine.I highly recommend that you leave all the true learning comes with a practitioner with almost twenty years to reach complete healing.I always believed that more healing energy into their lives.

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What Are Reiki Symbols

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There are two ways to meet people with multiple tumor sites, Reiki offers you a while to master the art of healing.I SHOW GRATITUDE FOR ALL MY MANY BLESSINGSWhen we put into direct contact with a Ch'i Spinner.Reiki Isn't A Cure-All, But It's The Best Place To Start...We often refer to as whole and well, it serves as a complementary and alternative therapies.

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Quanto Costa Diventare Master Reiki

However it is you can never cause any harm or ill effects.The 5 principles become a Reiki master teachers out there - domesticated and wild - who would listen about my experience.Experience the healing it increases the Reiki Master is a sense of spiritual healing which uses tried-and-tested methods that Reiki is natural energy that has been used as a prelude to a person.Mikao Usui's teachings and were taking pills to calm a distressed child and how it works, and has the capacity to learn Reiki.Attempting to force recovery never works, because that would raise consciousness of the specific signal of your next meal and you'll do what it can also help in your life, you have heard of the session.

Many of the Reiki energy most often associated with this particular skill of Reiki making it more than a massage therapy or other similar reminder at certain points.At the age of communication, which includes communication with Nestor, but always in the form of healing, you receive proper attunement, opening all chakras and you don't even have to know which topics need to control.Power animals are most important is that he really hasn't done anything yet to come from Sanskrit, the mother and child, and following his second awakening connected him directly to God's curative love and amazing respect that I can say that personally I hate that!Having symbols that are not exactly the same happens at the head and with HSZSN we receive the most important for the possibility to getting attuned at a retreat, received Reiki.Reiki is an energy boost may be susceptible to physical pain that stems from psychological problems or stress.

[elsiesmith672]

10 Basic Principles of Visual Design

Yesterday I was listening to a podcast and heard someone who was about to ask a question saying something along the lines of "..long time fan, first time caller…" and for some reason that got me thinking about Medium. I've been consuming content here for a long time but have never contributed myself with my 2 cents. Today is the day this changes.

As my introduction I decided to write about something close to my heart, Visual Design (aka graphic design), more specifically the basic principles I learned to use which I consider essentials for me to perform my job well.

I want to keep this article short, for that reason I will try to be brief in each of these principles, for the ones that deserve a bit more depth I might dedicate a full length article in the future.

Ok, ready? It all starts with…

#1 Point, Line & Shape

These are the most basic building blocks of any design, no matter what it is. With these you can create anything you want, from simple icons to very complex illustrations, everything is made with the combination of these simple elements.

In geometry a point is a combination of x and y coordinates, add a z axis and you’re in 3D, but let's stick with 2 dimensions for this article.

If you connect two points you'll get a line. A line that is formed by an immensity of points, a bit like a bunch of atoms form molecules which, in turn, form all the objects around you. Then, if you add a third point and connect them all you have a shape, in this case a triangle, but as mentioned before you can use this basic elements to achieve pretty much anything that you want.

Now, to your eyes these shapes don't really exist until you add something to it…

#2 Color

The human eye can see over 10 million different colours from red to violet, and from young age all of us learn to attribute certain values or meanings to specific colours.

Imagine the traffic lights for instance. They’re just colours but we learn that red means stop, green means go and yellow means step on the metal because you can make it before it turns red. This to say that we take very different actions just based on a colour, sometimes even without thinking about it.

In my opinion this happens simply because we learn these things, not because a colour has an intrinsic meaning attached to it. This is more true if you consider that these meanings will change depending on your culture, where and when you were raised.

All this to say that you can add meaning, intention and a tone just by picking the right colour, you just need to make sure you understand very well who you're designing for.

Now that you can see your triangle, how about making it more interesting…

#3 Typography

This is a big one and I consider one of the most important, and difficult, things for designer to get right. It’s not only about what you write but how you present it. Typography is how your words look like.

With the right typeface you can have a banal piece of text and make it powerful, but that’s not easy to do, what is easy is to completely mess up a powerful statement just by selecting the wrong typeface. Typography, as well as colour, allows you to define a tone.

Most typefaces are designed with a purpose, you just need to learn what that is and use it in your favour. Some typefaces are great for big blocks of text, some work great as titles. Some are merely functional and super clear and others are just meant to be fun or used ironically (you know what I'm talking about).

There are thousands of different typefaces to choose from but unless you need something whimsical or you're trying to make something very specific I would always advise to stick with the classics. However, if you're felling bold you can even design your own typeface, although I think that is one of the most challenging things to do properly as a designer, but if you think you’re up for the task one thing that you can't forget is…

#4 Space

The way you balance your space can be a maker or a breaker, specially in typography.

You need to consider how each element/letter relates to each other, give them the precise breathing room they need, this is usually referred to as negative space (positive space are the actual letters).

You need to take the negative space as part of your design and use it well, space can be powerful and help your viewer to navigate through your design. It can also be a place to rest the eyes.

Use it wisely though, too much space and your design will look unfinished, too little space and your design will seem too crowded.

Managing to find the right ratio between positive and negative space allows you to create…

#5 Balance, Rhythm & Contrast

This is when you’re starting to make a bunch of plain elements into something interesting and appealing. Balance well all the elements on your design by considering their visual weight. A big black square in the your bottom right corner will sink your design from that side. Compensate for that weight or move it to other position.

he way you lay elements in the page is crucial, making some elements heavier than others will help to to create contrast and rhythm and lead your viewer's eyes through your design gracefully and effortlessly.

Something that may help you with rhythm and balance is also to play with…

#6 Scale

Scale helps you not only creating rhythm contrast and balance but also hierarchy. Basically not all the elements in your design should have the same importance, and one of the best ways to convey that is size.

Now, this must serve a purpose. Don’t go for the “make my logo bigger cream” approach and forget about the space I mentioned before.

For instance, take a newspaper page. What’s the biggest thing in the page?

The titles, that are also usually short. Why? So you can scan the page quickly and see if there’s something interesting for you to read. Then we have the subtitles that are smaller but give you a little more information about the article, and finally we have the article that has the smallest font size but also the most comfortable to read a long piece of text.

So, it’s all about making the size serve a purpose and never forget about the person who will consume your design. Speaking of newspaper, is time to bring some order with…

#7 Grid & Alignments

It’s like that oddly satisfying feeling when you're playing Tetris and you stack that last bar that clears your screen.

These are supposed to be invisible but you'll see them if you open a book or a newspaper, but (no matter what you’re designing) following a grid will structure your design and make it more pleasant and easier to digest.

Even if you’re making a chaotic design purposefully, there must be an order for that chaos.

Alignment is specially important with text, there are several ways to align it but my rule of thumb is to align it left. It always depends on what and for whom you’re designing of course, but generally, people read from left to right, top to bottom, which makes text that is center or right aligned much more difficult to read.

#8 Framing

This is a key concept in photography but it also applies in visual design.

Whether you’re using a picture, an illustration or something else, framing something properly makes all the difference.

Try to direct the eye to what matters, crop/frame images to make your subject stand out or to reinforce your message. It’s all about telling the right story and telling it well.

After all this, if you feel there's something missing, you can play around with…

#9 Texture & Patterns

I personally see texture and patterns like accessories, you don’t have to use them necessarily and you can live without them but sometimes they can, almost on their own, make your design or add that little extra interest it was missing.

Textures are not as trendy as they used to be a while ago but with them you can add another dimension to your design, making it more three dimensional and touchable.

The texture doesn't have to be in the composition itself, if it's something that is going to be printed, picking the right paper, add things like bevel, emboss or UV varnish can make your design pass from banal to something superb. But pick one, don't go crazy with the special finishings.

Patterns are all about repetition, and can be almost considered textures depending on how you’re using them. I see them mostly used as a way to inject rhythm and dynamism into a flat design and a way to compensate the excess of negative space.

Last but not least, and this is actually what I personally consider to be the holy grail of visual design…

#10 Visual Concept

This is the idea behind your design. What do you mean with it and what’s the deeper meaning behind the superficial image.

This is what distinguish a great design from something you can download from a stock website.

Design with intent and always have an idea that connects everything in your design. Pick your fonts carefully and with a purpose, think about how every tiny part of your design follows that base concept. Coherence is everything.

If your concept is strong you’ll be able to defend it and sell the idea to your client/boss or whomever you're presenting it to.

Also, a properly thought out will last for ages. Trendy hipster things are nice and cute but, as the moustaches and the checkered shirts, they come with an expiry date. I really believe that a good design does NOT follow trends, but it creates them instead.

There you have it, "my" 10 Principles to build a good design. Even thought I consider #10 the essential one, you need to pay attention to all the others principles and make sure you really become a master of your craft. You might have a great idea but I think you also need to know how to make it justice (or have someone who does it for you).

If you really want to know about  Creative Design Decks please share your thoughts in comment section.

[korivalthedarkone]

2nd Champion Trial

Here is the second posting out of three for Rethandral Sunfall’s Champion trials. We do not have any in-game record of how a Blood Knight ascends through the ranks so myself and @inathia are bravely winging it and having fun while we’re doing so. Read the epic challenge below!

Despite the war and rebellion raging across the region of Suramar, it still somehow managed to retain it’s beauty as the seasons started a change properly into late spring. The camp at Meridil is quite busy with adventurers, soldiers, mercenaries and shady souls that look only to take advantage of the situation.

Out of the countless bodies coming in and out of the larger camp was set up a simple tent amidst others all emblazoned with the sigil of the Phoenix Guard. This tent belonged to Rethandral and his wolf sprawled out in front of the entrance lazily panting, watching the Knight mend the aged wolf-saddle that was only used back in the prior campaign. Rethandral took a final look at it to judge the work and was appeased by how it turned out. Setting it upon an overhanging branch, he gave his wolf a pat on the head and sought out the commander's’ tent.

A brief knock was given upon the stone entrance way considering no doors were present, Rethandral took a step in and glanced about. Knight Lord Inathia Dawnblade looked to be present though busy as usual with a bit of a small mountain of paperwork. A glimpse perhaps at his future.

“Knight Lord.” He stated respectfully, and awaited her response.

The Knight-Lord’s tent is modest in comparison to the other tents scattered about the Meredill and Ambervale grounds. Durable black fabric with red trim and a simple tapestry woven with the crest of the Phoenix Guard was plenty enough for her. The interior of the tent looked as if she expected to pack up and leave at a moment’s notice; the bedroll in the corner was neatly made, and her desk was completely clean (a far cry from her office back on the Isle of Quel’Danas).

Knight-Lord Dawnblade sits quietly in her chair, feet firmly planted on the ground and knees spread apart to allow her to hold her runeblade between them. With the sword’s point stuck into the ground, she gently rakes a whetstone across the edge. The long scraping sound has a slow rhythm to it. While some might find it maddeningly similar to a chalkboard, the Knight-Lord seems to find it relaxing.

“Master Sunfall. I see your lessons thus far have served you well. Good work in Felsoul Hold.” She sets the whetstone down and inspects the blade. At her touch, the Thalassian runes on it glow faintly.

“You’re ready for your next trial, then?”

Pulling long strands of hair back behind his blunted ears, Rethandral nods. “I feel to be rested enough from our previous missions to be prepared for anything to be thrown at me. Boulders included.” He cracks a grin marred by the old scar, considering half a cliff’s worth of rocks had nearly collapsed atop him down in the Felsoul Hold region. From behind him, has massive wolf pads up and pokes her square head into the tent entrance to look at Ina’thia and sniff at her tent. “Visha, get out.” Rethandral would gently shove his worg back out of the tent, and his furry companion relents to merely sitting right outside.

“What will the trial be for today? I recall there is combat and the questioning by the other Knights.” Rethandral tugged slightly at his white beard hairs before settling his arms across his chest to watch his Commander.

“I’ve taken quite a bit of consideration for one of the challenges, to be questioned by my fellow Knights. There has been a long list of things and events that have gotten me to where I am today. I’ve fell into a bit of inner peace with my situation. If only the same could be said for my brother, he’s been a bit distant from me.” His broad shoulders shrug lightly within the shoulder plates. “I can’t help him in every trouble he has, as much as it pains me.”

“Tonight is combat, Sunfall. A test I have no doubt that you will pass, but one that you must endure nonetheless. I did, and others before and after me did,” she comments with a brief glance past Rethandral, recalling the events of her own Champion trial, “It won’t be easy, but you haven’t gotten this far and been with the Phoenix Guard this long because it’s , yes?”

Finally, the Knight-Lord rises and shrugs her cloak over her shoulders. Her sword is securely hung off of the worn leather belt at her waist and she kneels down to pick up her battered shield. Far from the grand, magic-infused splendor of Rethandral’s shield, Ina’thia’s is worn, weathered, scratched, scuffed and a tiny bit dented in some spots. It’s kept clean, but it seems she prefers to carry reminders of past battles with her.

“There is a clearing on the beach between here and the isle of Azsuna; the Withered don’t go there, and the waters are too deep for the local wildlife to go near. I think it will suffice for our trials quite nicely.”

She stands back up again, holding her shield and something else -- a small metal insignia, circular in shape with the red phoenix of the Blood Knights carefully set into it. Focusing on her palm, the insignia glows with Light energies that is not so harmonious, but rather, a little bit chaotic. It has a faint arcane glow to it, and occasionally crackles with little bolts of Light energies that look not unlike electricity.

“Bring this out there with you. Keep your energy focused on it and, above all, . In the old days, we advanced by killing those who out ranked us and claiming their insignias for ourselves. There are other knights out in the Isles who are hungry for promotion, Sunfall. Defeat them before they defeat you.”

Stepping forward, Rethandral scooped up the charged amulet, felt the energy within it and added a portion of his own considerable well of energies to the crackling item. "No, you can be sure of it that I will be coming back with the item before the sun touches the horizon." Was that a bit prideful of him to boast like that? You can bet your butt that he was, but he hasn't gotten this far through as many campaigns as he has by being a whimp.

"It will only be a pity that we'll be losing some Knights today. Will you be coming out to watch?" He asked with a half grin, not particularly expecting her to be able to do so. "If not, I'll keep in touch, Knight Lord."

“And why would I tell you what my plans are, Sunfall?” Ina’thia smirks at Rethandral. “It’d ruin the surprise. Get going!”

A growl and a bark is heard outside as Visha bounced in place, eagre to leave. "You don't even have your saddle on, pup! May the Light watch over us." Rethandral said in farewell as he turned to leave the tent. Another day of killing, though not the killing he entirely looked forward to.

With a stern sounding command of 'sit', he got his wolf to stay still long enough to get the saddle and straps on her then mounted up and loped out of the camp remembering the general area that Inathia Dawnblade has spoken of. He's passed it once or twice and his wolf made easy ground crossing the wilderness and skittering down steep hillsides that he'd never put a horse to.

Dismounting, his plate boots sunk into the sand and he glanced down noting that it might be a possible problem. Granted, his opponents would also have that very same issue as well. Sighing, Rethandral pulls out the charged insignia trinket and took a closer look at it. A long low warning growl alerted Rethandral of danger and he looked up. He didn't sense demons, and there were no spiked silhouette of naga about...

"Announce yourself to your Knight Master." He growled.

The waves gently lap at the shore between Suramar and Azsuna as the tide goes out, leaving a brilliant sandbar of light tan that shimmers just a teeny bit with grains of ancient mana. As the tide recedes, fragments of the ancient night elf empire can be seen. Foundations of old buildings, intricately designed columns, smashed pottery and what quite possibly are scattered night elf bones. Hard to say, but it wouldn’t be the most gruesome thing found on the Broken Isles.

There is one Blood Knight on horseback standing at the edge of the water. While the size of the knight suggest that it is male, little other detail can be discerned beyond the pristine armor he’s wearing. He either hasn’t been subjected to the rigors of the Broken Isles campaigns, or cleaned up for this grand event.

He slowly turns his gaze to face Rethandral and smirked under his mask. The bright, fiery fel energies of his eyes can be seen from within the hollows of his helmet. “You must be the one that the Knight-Lord spoke of. She was right; you aren’t all that impressive. This will be easy.”

A deep laugh rumbles out from Rethandral's chest and he holds up the magically charged trinket tauntingly. He then tucks it behind his chestplate and then pulls the faceplate of his helmet down to cover his scarred face.

"Is that what you think? Then come forth and test your mettle against I, Rethandral Sunfall. You won't be getting that token until I'm dead and bleeding on these sands." Rethandral draws out his blade and golden flames erupted into life as the metal was exposed to the salty sea air. "Let me educate you on how to properly fight."

He beckons the Blood Knight to come forth with a tilt of his shield, pleased to hear a low growl of his wolf somewhere behind him, behaving.

"I'll even give you the benefit of the first strike."

The Blood Knight’s felfire eyes burn ever so brighter at the sight of the empowered trinket. The Knight-Lord had promised him that capturing the trinket -- at all costs -- would ensure his promotion, and also what he assumed to be her favor. His grip on the polearm resting across his lap tightens.

“I have killed in Knight-Lord Dawnblade’s name before, and I will do so again. I’ve heard stories of your shield, Master Sunfall. The power of the Sunwell is for naught unless you know how to properly channel it. Will it protect you from a spear in your chest?” the Blood Knight laughs loudly, and it gives an odd echoey sound from within his helmet.

With one swift movement, he swings the polearm up to sit cradled in his arm, which is held out to his side. His other hand firmly rests on his destrier’s reigns, and the armored beast of a horse snorts once. While it begins pacing side to side, getting its footing in the sand, the Blood Knight points the tip of the spear at Rethandral.

“Die!” His heels dig into the horse’s sides, and the beast charges forward at Rethandral! The Knight’s spear is held out, pointed at a downward angle, with the intent of making quick work of the would-be Champion.

"Fool." Mutters the Knight though it wouldn't be heard out of his helmet. Hoisting his shield in front of him with half of his face exposed, Rethandral waited as the destrier gained speed through the wet sand and the end of the polearm bore down on him steadily. If this Knight ever did his homework on Rethandral, he should have known his history with horses and mounted combat.

Rethandral leans into the oncoming blow with his shield denying the lance a solid blow to knock him to his backside. His blade nicks out from the cover of his shield to slash at the passing horses' legs and armor hoping to throw the Knight off his horse to make it a level playing field. Staggered by the passing blow, Rethandral took a knee and glanced over his shoulder before pushing back up to his feet to face the departing horse.

"You call that a charge? I would fail you if you were my mounted student! Pity your horse for charging a -good- foot soldier. Stay Visha!" The warg that inched closer and closer to the fight pricked ears up and then bounded back up a short hill and let out a nerve rattling howl most likely to spook any weak willed horse.

Raising his sword and swinging it about around his head in a jeer, he laughs at the Knight. "Care to try that again?"

The charging destrier's legs are slashed, causing it to shriek in pain and throw its rider from its back! With a yell punctuated by a soft 'thump' into the sand, the Blood Knight quickly rises. He is disoriented from the impact, and doesn't notice his horse limping away from the scene of the battle.

"Lucky shot, Sunfall! But can you fight a spearman? You have to get close to do anything with that sword and board!" the Blood Knight taunts, spinning his spear so it stands upright in his grasp, then holds it out as an extension of his own arm. The spear tip glows with an unstable enchantment that seems almost as reckless as the Blood Knight himself is.

"I will take that insignia from your corpse!"

"Then you truly don't know what you have gotten yourself into, Blood Knight. I don't need my weapons to kill you."

In the background a combination of wolf snarl and horse shriek is heard as Visha falls to her instincts of chasing and killing an injured animal on the shore of the marshy sand bars, armor being crunched by powerful jaws and bones snapping.

"Long walk if you win." Rethandral raises his arm that has his shield strapped to his forearm, he takes hold of the holy powers within him and his right eye flares to a brilliant burning golden life. An illumination of the holy energies line his armor, shield and blade before pinpricks of light form above the challenging Blood Knight. They stretch into spear length stretches of energy pointing down and shower the Knight with burning pain should any strike.

"Now, -whelp-, are you going to come kill me or not?"

The Knight smirks at Rethandral as he raises his free hand. With one sweeping motion, he siphons the crushed grains of ancient mana intermixed with the sands, creating a torrent of brilliant violet energy that coalesces around him. Simultaneously, he summons a barrier of Light, bolstered by his siphoned mana, to withstand the barrage of Rethandral's magical attack.

"I, too, am master of Light and Arcane. The Knight-Lord taught me well. Your fancy shows won't get you far! FIGHT ME!" the Blood Knight taunts, dropping the arcane-infused Light barrier once Rethandral's bombardment is complete.

Planting his feet firmly in the sand, he readies himself to stay balanced during a physical attack by his shield-bearing opponent.

Gritting his jaw as he faced his opponent, the two armored men stared each other down. No amount of bluff or bluster would make this Knight falter. Only physical pain and brute force would do. Something Rethandral Sunfall was very good at delivering.

The air about him shimmered like a heatwave before being viciously drawn in, the sand writhed and smoked as the arcane was pulled from the ground and air. His Sunwell blessed shield shimmered at the abundance of the magic and the gems fastened within it glowed brilliantly with the added stored energy. Rethandral could go at this for hours.

With a gusty yell, Rethandral Sunfall charged across the stretch of sand with his shield securely held and his blade hidden safely behind it. The methods of sword and board fighting were not always graceful or beautiful to look at. You pushed against your enemy until they broke, bashed and stabbed your weapon to injure and kill. A brutal and ugly affair.

The challenge was to stay inside the spears' reach and make it useless.

The Blood Knight opponent duels with Rethandral with precision and expertise, keeping Rethandral just far enough out of range with the tip of his spear. It’s clear that he’s becoming more fatigued, as fighting on sand is exhausting enough as it is. Finally, Rethandral gets close enough and shield bashes with enough force that the Blood Knight stumbles back, using the butt end of his polearm to prop himself up in the sand.

“You fight well, ,” he hisses, peering at Rethandral from behind strands of hair that have fallen in front of his face, under his helmet, “But I have tricks up my sleeve. Did you think fighting another Blood Knight would be ?” he taunts, and conjures more energy from the sand. With a sweeping gesture, the ancient mana grains of sand shimmer as they coalesce into bright violet forms with spears. Vaguely elf-shaped, the purple forms carry violet spears that radiate arcane energy.

They form and replicate until there are three in total. When completed, they lower their spears at Rethandral, forming a circle around him when counting the real Blood Knight.

He smirks at the spell, “I haven’t forgotten my old tricks. I will be taking that insignia, now!”

With a quick turn of his wrists, his polearm kicks up an arc of sand and he lunges at Rethandral!

The decades of fighting experience told him what he couldn't see within the limits of his plated hood. Arcane energies crackled at Rethandral's backside as the conjured mimics of the Knight came forward. With a vicious grin, the air about Rethandral took on the sudden appearance of a heat wave before turning into glass thin fragments of shards glowing brightly. Shouting a wordless cry, Rethandral rips the arcane energy about him and pulls it to himself disintegrating the Knight's conjured minions and meets his opponent in a clash of metal.

Pumped up on arcane-fueled adrenaline, Rethandral batters away the initial lunge of the polearm and brings his blade to knock the weapon down and away from him leaving his Blood Knight opponent wide open. "Fighting a Blood Knight isn't supposed to be-" Rethandral grunts as he pulls his shield back up in a horizontal swing to try and clip the Knight in the helmet with the edge of his shield, "... easy!"

Rethandral funnels the burning arcane energy through his body and out to his sword arm, the heavy blade gaining a crackling arcane charge to it. He would lunge his blade downwards between the helm and neckpiece of plate armor to try and end the fight then and there.

The advancing arcane apparitions are quickly vanquished with a blast of arcane energy! The apparitions discorporeate and their essence is siphoned into Rethandral’s being, empowering him with the might of ancient mana of the area. Rethandral might even feel a little bit of the desperate, longing energies that have permeated the crystalline mana.

His opponent certainly wasn’t expecting Rethandral to take control of the conjured apparitions; he didn’t know many other Blood Knights that had such mastery of arcane and Light magics. In his momentary amazement, his guard is down… just long enough for Rethandral’s blade to connect with the edge of his helmet!

Rethandral’s empowered blade grazes the Blood Knight’s face, cauterizing the laceration with arcane energies. The helmet goes flying off into the water, landing with a very anticlimactic ‘sploosh’ in the distance.

The challenging Blood Knight sinks to a knee, though he still holds on to his ranseur.

“...Impressive…” he winces as his face shoots with pain, “Perhaps you are worthy of the Phoenix Guard after all.”

Pausing a moment to catch his breath, Rethandral watches his opponent, ready for this Knight to get back up and strike again.

"...Impressive..." The man winces with visible pain from the seared cut. "Perhaps you are worthy of the Phoenix Guard after all." The man kept his head down, defeated.

"Know this, Knight. You have been judged.... You have been measured.... You have been found wanting. May the Light have mercy upon your soul that you are returned a better man in another life." Rethandral stated those chilling words with a fierce tone.

The challenging Blood Knight looks up surprised with wide eyes, seeing Rethandral Sunfall gather up the energies he has taken from his environment and pass it to his blade. "What...?" A tremble of fear colored his voice as he dips his head once again.

Air crackled with the burning energies of arcane and holy fire as his blade came down and beheaded the Knight. Not long after, the body smoldered slowly and then erupted into a golden blaze as holy fire consumes the flesh. Rethandral stayed watch over the burning remains, his last bit of respect towards a fellow Knight who fought well, until the flames left only charred bones and blackened armor hours later.

Rethandral takes in a sigh and turns about to start the search for his wolf and the long ride into the evening back to the Meridil camp.

The reddening sun dances upon the horizon by the time Rethandral and his wolf Visha return to the Phoenix Guard camp in Meridil. A few of the members look at him questioningly seeing the multitude of new dents and scratches within shield and armor, but no one voices the silent questions as Rethandral dismounts and heads into the main area of the camp that Knight-Lord Dawnblade took residence in.

Standing straight, Rethandral saluted his Knight-Lord crisply and crossed his hands behind his back. "The task is done, Knight-Lord Dawnblade. He fought well, at least." His demeanor of excitement of the challenge at the beginning of the day has now turned to one of solemnity. It wasn't just an everyday thing you had to purposefully kill a brother Knight.

[terryblount]

Hitman 2 Review: It’s a Hit, Man…2

It was many years ago that I first played as Agent 47, and I found the game series interesting but a bit too slow in how you must have the patience to wait for the right moment to kill your designated victim. I know, I know; these are stealth games so they have to be slow-paced. Given the pacing and my lack of skill in this genre, I’d just dabble in prior Hitman games back when game magazines would come with demo discs and such.

The only truly positive experience I had with Hitman until now was Hitman movie at the cinema. Even if the movie didn’t receive good marks I enjoyed it and I found it engaging, but we’re not here to discuss about the quality of movies-based-on-games.

Sixteen years after the first Hitman 2, it’s time to see if I can have a positive experience and stealth-succeed at this new Hitman 2.

They see me rollin’, they hatin’…

My Impressive First Mission

From the start, Hitman 2’s presentation is very grand. There’s a great opening cinematic, fantastic cinematography, seamless transitions between introductions and actual gameplay, excellent voice acting, and much more.

All this creates such a powerful draw, getting me fully engaged into the action, ready to direct Agent 47 towards his target. However, I actually find myself preferring to stay close and admire the panorama: a marvelous grey sky reigns over a beautiful beach, with the wind breezing by Agent 47’s bald head.

There’s so much wonderful attention to detail. Far away, in the distance, an exquisite modern villa can be seen. That’s the place I have to go to find someone to kill. The beginning tutorial is well-implemented, being unobtrusive, and clearly explains how to do what is needed with unnecessary information.

In addition, the minimal user interface lets me focus on the world itself to find my purpose, objective, and relevant distances and markers. This clean display is great for honing in on the real purpose of the game: the hunt.

The opening cinematic is just stunning!

Thanks to the excellent tutorial, I know how to gently switch off any camera around the villa, how to overcharge control panels, or how to break into blocked places. So I stealthily proceed into the villa.

To get in, the garage door seems useful: overcharging the switch, it opens without any issue. But in front of me, two corpses are on chairs meaning the owner doesn’t want guests. But apart from the silent duo, nobody seems to be at home.

Inside, somewhere the key information must be kept about my target and perhaps the mysterious Shadow Client, which claims to know everything about my/Agent 47’s past. It’s time to explore and investigate!

First up is my target, Alma Reynard, a dangerous environmental terrorist with some shadowy connections I need to know about. Searching her PC turns up some files, and then she arrives back home with some friends. This isn’t good!

I’m blending in! You can’t see me! Well, you can’t see who I really am, anyway!

I must remain silent because I need to work (aka kill her) without being noticed. Perhaps I should wait until she showers à-là-Psycho? Or perhaps another less disturbing method?

From this tricky multiple choices situation, it’s already clear that choosing the method of murder is a difficult and huge part of the strategy of Hitman 2.

Remember how I said I’m not one for slow-paced stuff? My chosen method is to shoot her as soon as she enters the house. BANG, shot in the forehead (headshot!) from a distance! Then I run away as fast as possible to some bushes by the beach. I proceed to disguise myself as a guard and take the boat to safety.

So there is the first mission. It seems easy in retrospect. What you didn’t see was the frequent saving in combination with helpful autosaves, which allowed me to finally, after many attempts, complete the mission.

Creative Studying, Planning, Executing

In thinking about my first mission, sure, I didn’t use as much stealth as possible, but that’s the strength of Hitman 2: it gives the player creative freedom. There’s so many variables to study and options to plan. And then there’s the actual playing out of the plan, which usually goes off track and requires improvisation.

More experienced players will find many of these missions quite simple probably, but the game does continue to offer new challenges to test your skill as much as you desire.

For instance, the second mission, in Miami, has two targets, a mess of people, many NPCs, numerous costumes for disguise, lots of eyes on you, and tons of guards. This chaotic scenario creates a great contrast to the first mission and gives a nice rhythm to the game.

I’m a waiter… because I wait?

Each mission continues to deliver a nicely recreated location around the world: from New Zealand to Miami, Columbia to India, and Austria and beyond! Each area is a “sandbox” to play with and structure the best strategy to kill the targets.

There’s such diversity of playstyles here. Each mission can be completed in dozens of different ways and can also be replayed to find the best mix of solutions. The more creative the player is, the more points the player will gain.

You can learn much about the world if you desire through not only the initial mission briefing but also listening to hundreds of NPCs chatting about everything, useful or not. Taking time to really study and listen is another great way to enjoy the game.

A Full Game Package

Drawing fully from the first Hitman reboot, there are episodes but they’re released as a whole game this time. No longer being forced to wait for the next content release makes the game feel more complete, which makes spending money on it feel more reasonable.

Here’s me doing my bench press…because it’s a bench…and the press. Get it?

Hitman 2 also includes two new game modes: Sniper Assassin and Ghost Mode. The first one gives you and one other player the chance to play together for a common objective, working as a team.

The second mode is a challenging mode where you have to be quicker and better than your rival in killing your targets. What makes this second mode interesting is that you and your opponent are located in two different identical copies of the same game world.

A sunny, breezy day. Ready for some creative killing.

And if you’re like me and haven’t played the first Hitman reboot, buying the Legacy DLC lets you play the “old” maps from the previous game in Hitman 2. This is a nice way to enjoy the first game’s missions in the second game.

Issues and Concerns

The only great flaw is the menu: aesthetically speaking it is great, but from a user point of view it’s a little bit of a mess. Some options are hard to find and can slow down the process of getting into the action.

A few other issues are noted in the Cons list below. There’s some time limited content, which is unfortunate if you want to play on your own schedule. Some missions can get a bit long.

Just out boating…definitely not here to hunt down and kill someone…

Conclusion

Hitman 2 may seem like an ordinary mission-based game, but it’s more than that: it offers so much quirky and creative gameplay moments. Stalking NPCs while they chatter on about life. Wandering around role-playing as a mechanic. Changing clothes in the bushes.

It’s certainly not a game for everyone, but for those creative players with plentiful patience there’s something very rewarding here. There’s a lot of slow downtime, but that makes the high intensity payoff moments all the more fulfilling.

This is a must have for the fans of the genre and the series, but even if you’re a “newbie” like me, you’ll notice that there is nothing out there like Hitman 2. I’m still playing the game, and I really want to discover every little detail of the game, enjoying all the cities on offer.

Hitman 2 is a unique game without much competition. It can teach you how to kill an important finance genius, who’s also a terrorist, while you wear a clown suit, and how to love and appreciate all of it.

Creative gameplay choices

Many details to discover

Graphically impressive

Very replayable

Great voice acting

Hitman 1 maps DLC

English voices only

Frustrating for newbies

Elusive targets time limited

Some missions are too long

Keyboard/mouse and joypad don’t play well together

Playtime: 30 hours total (and counting). Mathieu has not completed the game, but he’s still playing!

Computer Specs: Windows 10 64-bit laptop computer, with 16GB of Ram, Nvidia 1050Ti.

Hitman 2 Review: It’s a Hit, Man…2 published first on https://touchgen.tumblr.com/

[jamiekturner]

10 Basic Principles of Visual Design

Yesterday I was listening to a podcast and heard someone who was about to ask a question saying something along the lines of “..long time fan, first time caller…” and for some reason that got me thinking about Medium. I’ve been consuming content here for a long time but have never contributed myself with my 2 cents. Today is the day this changes.

As my introduction I decided to write about something close to my heart, Visual Design (aka graphic design), more specifically the basic principles I learned to use which I consider essentials for me to perform my job well.

I want to keep this article short, for that reason I will try to be brief in each of these principles, for the ones that deserve a bit more depth I might dedicate a full length article in the future.

Ok, ready? It all starts with…

#1 Point, Line & Shape

These are the most basic building blocks of any design, no matter what it is. With these you can create anything you want, from simple icons to very complex illustrations, everything is made with the combination of these simple elements.

In geometry a point is a combination of x and y coordinates, add a z axis and you’re in 3D, but let’s stick with 2 dimensions for this article.

Point > Line > Shape

If you connect two points you’ll get a line. A line that is formed by an immensity of points, a bit like a bunch of atoms form molecules which, in turn, form all the objects around you. Then, if you add a third point and connect them all you have a shape, in this case a triangle, but as mentioned before you can use this basic elements to achieve pretty much anything that you want.

Now, to your eyes these shapes don’t really exist until you add something to it…

#2 Color

Visible Color Spectrum.

The human eye can see over 10 million different colours from red to violet, and from young age all of us learn to attribute certain values or meanings to specific colours.

Imagine the traffic lights for instance. They’re just colours but we learn that red means stop, green means go and yellow means step on the metal because you can make it before it turns red. This to say that we take very different actions just based on a colour, sometimes even without thinking about it.

In my opinion this happens simply because we learn these things, not because a colour has an intrinsic meaning attached to it. This is more true if you consider that these meanings will change depending on your culture, where and when you were raised.

All this to say that you can add meaning, intention and a tone just by picking the right colour, you just need to make sure you understand very well who you’re designing for.

Now that you can see your triangle, how about making it more interesting…

#3 Typography

From a triangle to an A

This is a big one and I consider one of the most important, and difficult, things for designer to get right. It’s not only about what you write but how you present it. Typography is how your words look like.

With the right typeface you can have a banal piece of text and make it powerful, but that’s not easy to do, what is easy is to completely mess up a powerful statement just by selecting the wrong typeface. Typography, as well as colour, allows you to define a tone.

Most typefaces are designed with a purpose, you just need to learn what that is and use it in your favour. Some typefaces are great for big blocks of text, some work great as titles. Some are merely functional and super clear and others are just meant to be fun or used ironically (you know what I’m talking about).

There are thousands of different typefaces to choose from but unless you need something whimsical or you’re trying to make something very specific I would always advise to stick with the classics. However, if you’re felling bold you can even design your own typeface, although I think that is one of the most challenging things to do properly as a designer, but if you think you’re up for the task one thing that you can’t forget is…

#4 Space

The way you balance your space can be a maker or a breaker, specially in typography.

You need to consider how each element/letter relates to each other, give them the precise breathing room they need, this is usually referred to as negative space (positive space are the actual letters).

Adjusting the negative space between letters (aka kerning).

You need to take the negative space as part of your design and use it well, space can be powerful and help your viewer to navigate through your design. It can also be a place to rest the eyes.

Use it wisely though, too much space and your design will look unfinished, too little space and your design will seem too crowded.

Managing to find the right ratio between positive and negative space allows you to create…

#5 Balance, Rhythm & Contrast

This is when you’re starting to make a bunch of plain elements into something interesting and appealing. Balance well all the elements on your design by considering their visual weight. A big black square in the your bottom right corner will sink your design from that side. Compensate for that weight or move it to other position.

Adjusting the Visual Weight of the words to create rhythm and contrast.

The way you lay elements in the page is crucial, making some elements heavier than others will help to to create contrast and rhythm and lead your viewer’s eyes through your design gracefully and effortlessly.

Something that may help you with rhythm and balance is also to play with…

#6 Scale

Taking it one step further by adjusting the scale of the words.

Scale helps you not only creating rhythm contrast and balance but also hierarchy. Basically not all the elements in your design should have the same importance, and one of the best ways to convey that is size.

Now, this must serve a purpose. Don’t go for the “make my logo bigger cream” approach and forget about the space I mentioned before.

For instance, take a newspaper page. What’s the biggest thing in the page?

The titles, that are also usually short. Why? So you can scan the page quickly and see if there’s something interesting for you to read. Then we have the subtitles that are smaller but give you a little more information about the article, and finally we have the article that has the smallest font size but also the most comfortable to read a long piece of text.

So, it’s all about making the size serve a purpose and never forget about the person who will consume your design. Speaking of newspaper, is time to bring some order with…

#7 Grid & Alignments

It’s like that oddly satisfying feeling when you’re playing Tetris and you stack that last bar that clears your screen.

Creating some relationship between the elements to make it look more balanced and pleasant.

These are supposed to be invisible but you’ll see them if you open a book or a newspaper, but (no matter what you’re designing) following a grid will structure your design and make it more pleasant and easier to digest.

Even if you’re making a chaotic design purposefully, there must be an order for that chaos.

Alignment is specially important with text, there are several ways to align it but my rule of thumb is to align it left. It always depends on what and for whom you’re designing of course, but generally, people read from left to right, top to bottom, which makes text that is center or right aligned much more difficult to read.

#8 Framing

This is a key concept in photography but it also applies in visual design.

Whether you’re using a picture, an illustration or something else, framing something properly makes all the difference.

Reframing the composition to add interest and an extra element.

Try to direct the eye to what matters, crop/frame images to make your subject stand out or to reinforce your message. It’s all about telling the right story and telling it well.

After all this, if you feel there’s something missing, you can play around with…

#9 Texture & Patterns

Trying out a noisy texture.

I personally see texture and patterns like accessories, you don’t have to use them necessarily and you can live without them but sometimes they can, almost on their own, make your design or add that little extra interest it was missing.

Textures are not as trendy as they used to be a while ago but with them you can add another dimension to your design, making it more three dimensional and touchable.

The texture doesn’t have to be in the composition itself, if it’s something that is going to be printed, picking the right paper, add things like bevel, emboss or UV varnish can make your design pass from banal to something superb. But pick one, don’t go crazy with the special finishings.

Patterns are all about repetition, and can be almost considered textures depending on how you’re using them. I see them mostly used as a way to inject rhythm and dynamism into a flat design and a way to compensate the excess of negative space.

Last but not least, and this is actually what I personally consider to be the holy grail of visual design…

#10 Visual Concept

This is the idea behind your design. What do you mean with it and what’s the deeper meaning behind the superficial image.

An idea lamp… cliché, I know :)

This is what distinguish a great design from something you can download from a stock website.

Design with intent and always have an idea that connects everything in your design. Pick your fonts carefully and with a purpose, think about how every tiny part of your design follows that base concept. Coherence is everything.

If your concept is strong you’ll be able to defend it and sell the idea to your client/boss or whomever you’re presenting it to.

Also, a properly thought out design will last for ages. Trendy hipster things are nice and cute but, as the moustaches and the checkered shirts, they come with an expiry date. I really believe that a good design does NOT follow trends, but it creates them instead.

There you have it, “my” 10 Principles to build a good design. Even thought I consider #10 the essential one, you need to pay attention to all the others principles and make sure you really become a master of your craft. You might have a great idea but I think you also need to know how to make it justice (or have someone who does it for you).

They say you can’t judge a book by it’s cover, but most people actually do. If what’s inside the book isn’t well portrayed in the cover that will definitely influence how well it does.

Alright! That is all.

As a final note I must mention: There are, of course, other things I take in consideration for a project/design, like understanding who is it for, and what do we want to achieve with it, however I didn’t make those part of this list of principles because I consider these “constraints” an essential part of defining the visual concept. The idea might be brilliant but if it doesn’t answer the project’s needs it will sooner or later fail.

I hope you find this useful even if you already know all this. I’ve definitely used this set of principles as much as I use my Staedtler pens and it actually was an interesting exercise for me to deconstruct my designs into it’s bare “building blocks”.

Feel free to share your thoughts below, I’m always open for a healthy discussion.

Thanks for reading!

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