fletchergames - Tumblr blog

[fletchergames]

Pros and Cons of making things

Pro: Thing

Con: Make

[fletchergames]

This is something I've been cooking for a long time, and though I can't continue playing the game I started with some folks i do kinda want to get it out into the world for people to playtest and enjoy. If you would join a discord server dedicated to this, dm me/send me an ask, or follow for updates.

[fletchergames]

kicking my legs and giggling at the sleepover. can my OC who I've never drawn or talked about play with your OC who you've never drawn or talked about

[fletchergames]

Found this on pinterest

[fletchergames]

Acexistential💜

A bit of introspection about my experience as an asexual person! A comic for @ohjoysextoy

This little comic is my personal experience with asexuality. It’s so important to me that this isn’t interpreted as the only asexual experience. Every ace person has a different story to tell, and it’s so important to listen to every voice! My aceness also ties into my gender and my experience with romance; introspection for another day, perhaps!

[fletchergames]

Time for a new poll! I'm curious to see the spread of answers on this one (and hear any other series not on the list.) Tried to go for a range of older and newer series on here, more on the older end of the spectrum, but I can't cover everything with the limited poll options here, so I hope you'll share your answers! :)

Please reblog for a larger sample size, thank you!

[fletchergames]

Actually I'm gonna lay out the full rules of it:

Magic = reused potential. Seeds work, fertilized chicken eggs work, both are fairly common materials to have on hand.

What you can do is restricted by the size and lifespan of the thing that would have been made. With a chicken egg, you can manipulate up to a chicken's size of material, up to a chicken's lifespan of change. So you could grow a small tree 10 years' worth of time, but you couldn't make a diamond that'd take a million years.

Dead eggs/seeds/etc won't work. You boil an egg, you grind wheat into flour, you've used its potential up for something else. Don't let them go bad.

You can use these to extend your lifespan, so long as you've gotten the proper mass ratio. Like, a chicken lives for 10 years, but it's a 5lb chicken. If you're 200lbs, it takes 40 eggs to give you an extra 10 years of life. In tree terms, an acorn can give you a few centuries, provided you got the right kind of seed; they've got more potential, but they're less consistent, because while a chicken is generally uniform in size/shape, a tree is going to be different every time.

Dragon egg = practically immortal.

People can technically also be used, but that's horrible and illegal. Use of already-living things for their potential is both considered cruel and inconsistent; a pig halfway through its life only has half left to offer, but that other half is also based on its current health. So if it's a pig with a heart problem, its potential is impacted by how much that heart would take away.

Wherever anything dies that had a lot of potential, their natural magic goes stagnant and lingers. So lumberyards, butcher houses, and warzones tend to accumulate a lot of stagnant magic. Overtime, the stagnant magic gets absorbed and repurposed, but if too much death happens in a condensed area that can't handle the magic, the area gets cursed.

Cursed areas give rise to undead. Ghosts are echoes of the potential that was lost, zombies are bodies that are trying to cling to their potential, etc. They claw for natural magic and the corruption spreads. This is most common on battlefields that saw a lot of bloodshed.

Stagnant magic is what lets people use necromancy. You can control it in order to puppet the things it clings to, or you can use it to heal things, as injuries bleed magic that quickly turns stagnant.

Turning stagnant land viable again involves an arduous process of rewilding and spending. You use up the stagnant magic, then replace it with live magic. Whichever one is in excess is the one that takes over.

[fletchergames]

Mario has been kissed by at least two canonically transgender women. I have to surpass him

[fletchergames]

This d6 mini teapot I got as a housewarming present - Paper

[fletchergames]

Thinking about restless spirit Tony Stark who just can't move on to the after life.

The first thing he does once he realizes he's an apparition is check on Pepper and Morgan. True to their word, they're okay. He watches them for a bit but feels this deep unrest pulling him away from the quaint home he yearns for.

There's a deep wrongness within him, some unfinished business that draws him back to New York.

He fears for a moment that it's Peter- but no, it can't be him. He'll be in Massachusetts right now, attending MIT as a freshman. There isn't a doubt in Tony's mind that his little genius is already making his mark.

Still, he follows the pull of his spirit to some dingy Queens' apartment he's never been to before.

It's deep in the night yet the apartment is empty. He looks around a bit, his body phasing through anything he attempts to touch.

It's small and dirty. There's old coffee cups on the desk, alongside a couple GED manuals. Great, the universe thinks he has unfinished business with some broke high school dropout.

He's pondering how he must have screwed up this kid's life; was it the Avengers, Stark Industries? Maybe his old playboy lifestyle is finally coming to bite him in the ass.

His contemplation is cut short by the sound of the window cracking open.

It strikes Tony for a moment that maybe he's stuck on Earth to be a guardian angel, Iron Man living on as some invisible protector against whatever creep is sneaking into people's windows. It doesn't make much sense considering the whole non-corporeal thing, but he still stiffens like he's ready for a fight.

He sees a man- no, a thing? A creature maybe, or an alien. Even in death Tony can't escape being one of Earth's mightiest heroes.

The creature is shrouded in darkness, something slick and bald crawling inside the room with terrifying grace and silence. It shuts the window with a soft kssssh as the seal is formed.

And then it pulls off its mask.

There, with the click of a table lamp, glows the face of Peter Parker.

He's definitely older now; sturdier shoulders, a rugged set of his jaw, hair tamed to something semi-professional. Still present, though, are those gentle brown eyes.

Nothing makes sense right now. Why is his kid here, in this apartment? Surely May wouldn't allow this. How many tenant laws does this place break? Where are his little sidekick friends? And on what planet would Peter Parker ever need a GED?

Tony's getting angry now, watching Peter move around the tiny space. He changes out of his costume and into pajamas. That spider suit isn't Tony's suit, it looks like cheap craft store fabric.

The kid opens a small freezer and pulls out the singular bag of peas that reside in there, pressing it against his ribs while he goes to pop some bread into a toaster.

Tony takes note of every glimpse he gains into Peter's life. Empty cabinets when he reaches for a jar of peanut butter. A fridge housing nothing but condiments and energy drinks when he goes to grab jam. A drawer with two spoons, no forks, and a paring knife which he pulls out and sticks into the strawberry jam jar just as the toast pops.

This is all so wrong.

Tony's outrage is coming to a rolling boil. Peter deserves the world- he was gonna give him the world. He couldn't wait to send Peter to MIT and show him off as his protégé. Tony was gonna fund his projects, tease him about pretty girls, maybe even see him step back from Spider-Man and act like a normal college kid. He wanted to see him flourish and grow up. It was all he could think about when Peter turned to dust between his fingers; he should be goofing off with his friends at a mathletes meeting, or building Legos, not fighting an intergalactic war.

Tony couldn't even conceive how much went wrong to end up here.

Alone. Broke. No school. He didn't even have his Stark suit to protect him. Everything that made him him has been stripped, leaving him in this shallow box with scuffed paint and hollow cabinets.

Tony can feel the violent rage burn deep in his spirit as he thinks about it.

This is why he's here. He can't let his boy live like this, wasting his potential to be some villain's punching bag. Where is everyone? Does no one care enough to stop this? The fury that builds in Tony is dangerous, wondering why a dead man is the only one who cares about the teen's life right now.

Without thinking Tony's hand reaches for the GED textbook, a mocking piece of work that laughs in his face, and throws it at the stupid little kitchenette that's mere feet from the bed.

It sails across the room with surprising speed before it's met with a thunk against Peter's palm, hand reaching out to catch it from the air before it collided with the toaster.

Oh.

Peter sets the book down and immediately picks up his web shooters, eyes darting furiously to every corner of the tiny apartment.

"Who's there?"

Tony steps a little closer but Peter's eyes just look right past him.

"C'mon Pete, c'mon. I'm here, I'm right here."

Tony looks for something else to grab. He swats at a hopefully empty coffee cup on the wooden desk, but his hand just passes right through it.

"Shit," the hope Tony felt waivers slightly and he tries again.

Nothing.

Peter is searching his apartment now, making sure the window is secure and feeling around every crevice, bookshelves, under the bed, in the top corners of the room. Searching for something nefarious, tech maybe.

Tony hits the cup, again and again, frustration building up and up and up till-

The cup flies across the room, Tony and Peter's eyes track its movements as it bounces against the ground and rolls to a stop.

"Shit," Peter breathes out.

Tony walks up to Peter now, standing before him.

"Figure it out. Think kid, you've met aliens, gods, magicians, surely ghosts aren't too far fetched."

Peter closes his eyes. His posture straightens, Tony watches him take a deep breath in as the hairs on his bare arms stand on end.

Peter's eyes blink open, and they're looking directly at Tony.

Tony smirks, "that's it."

Peter turns around and picks the cup off the ground, running to his desk with it and ripping a piece of lined paper out of a notebook and scribbling furiously on it.

Tony walks over as Peter places the cup in the center of the paper.

On the left is the word YES in bold print, NO on the right.

"Okay, okay okay. So, move the cup if, if you wanna talk. Um, is there someone in the room right now?"

Tony reaches for the cup, an intense glare as his fingertips graze it gently. It shifts minutely towards the YES.

"Shit! Shit. Sorry, whew. Okay. Are you friendly?"

Tony moves it to YES again.

"Are you a, um. Person? Like not an alien?"

YES.

"Are you wearing tech, invisibility suit or your molecules are uncalibrated or maybe it's a portal thing like, multiverse shit is happening again, a mirror universe! Oh, maybe a..."

Tony let's a frustrated sign. The kid is too practical, logical. He needs to think like a non-genius.

"... could be. Or, or maybe you're just a ghost-"

Tony perks up and immediately swats the cup, causing it to fly off the desk towards the YES.

"Oh. Oh that's... kinda normal. Or maybe really weird? I mean... I certainly have some ghosts in my past."

Peter picks the cup up and puts it back on the desk.

"Do I know you?"

YES.

"You said you were friendly, and I'm not getting any danger tingles from you. I'm gonna start with people I know are dead, cuz I just really hope you're not a... new ghost. Um. M-May?"

The boy's voice cracks on the word and Tony freezes. May is dead? Tony starts to fear that things are a lot more wrong than he previously thought.

Peter's breath catches and Tony realizes he's waiting, dying for an answer, and quickly pokes the cup towards NO.

Peter's shoulders sag.

"Uncle Ben?"

NO.

"T- Mr. Stark?"

Tony grins, "now we're getting somewhere!"

YES.

Tony is going to have his work cut out for him, but being here with Peter just feels right.

Peter breaks out into a matching smile.

"Wow, okay. I think I'm gonna need more paper," he says as the boy gets to work making a more complex system than YES and NO.

Tony watches on proudly, reminiscing about all the great Peter was and all the great he still is, despite his situation. Whatever this is, they'll figure it out.

Together.

[fletchergames]

I just bought this. Gonna read these later.

Help Me Live Again Sale <3

I'm Efan, a nonbinary transfemme who's a game developer and designer!

I'm selling all my games individually at 15% off, and a BIG bundle discount for all my paid games at $25! That's nearly a 75% discount!

​I haven't been able to pay for much for a while now, and bills are starting to heighten, especially during tax season. I have ​been stuck inside for months, avoiding nearly all pleasure costs of living. I have been living in a deficit for a while now, and I'd like to live again. 

​With the money, I'll be able to pay for therapy, pay for medications, get diagnosed for mental things and disabilities, buy a new PC, and pay off my taxes. 

There is no problem if you can't buy the bundle, but it would truly help me a ton if you did. I just wanna live again. 

If you don't wanna buy a game, you can send some help via my PayPal or Kofi linked in my Linktree below!

Thanks so much, and have a wonderful day, y'all! 

[fletchergames]

Haunted by a fantasy world where "adventurer" is handled in the same way as "assassin" in John Wick. An ifykyk secondary economy running on gold coins where everyone knows each other but no one acknowledges the elephant in the room because we have manners about our weird-ass line of deadly desperate dangerous work.

Rolling into town, looking immaculate. Checking into the Inn. Not an inn, or the coaching house, or the traveler's hostel. The Inn. The one that takes my ridiculous oversized coin and says that my room is ready, and will I need to visit the Smith today? Perhaps a meeting with the Vintner? Shall I send up the Gourmand?

"Good afternoon, Master Whicke," the Smith says, putting aside the barrel scraper he's been working on to flip a switch beside the forge. Racks of tenpenny nails and trowels and hammers fold back to reveal the glittering points and edges of a score of swords and axes and spearpoints lit with the flicker of finely-tuned enchantments. "Shall we tour what's new?"

"What sort of occasion are we hosting, Master Whicke?" The Vintner asks, pocketing the coin with a sigh. "A funeral," you say.

"Ah, well perhaps something light to start, then," she says selecting a straight-walled flask that glitters with contained starlight, proof against the touch of the undead. " And something for remembrance," she plucks a small crock of something evil-smelling and phosphorescent. "And then something to really bring down the house." She gingerly selects a double ampoule of energetic looking jellies.

The Gourmand carefully runs his knife through the salted flank of a cockatrice with a pursing of the lips. "So many neglect trail rations, Master Whicke, and it is their shame. Paired with goldenwheat pancakes and carrion honey, a mouthful of cockatrice--properly seasoned of course--will keep the mummy rot at bay, even post-exposure. I have been given to indicate by the Management that your current escapade may make such information useful to you. I will of course wrap your purchases exceedingly carefully. Rot will be your constant companion in the Black Pyramid."

There's something here.

[fletchergames]

Yes, I’m ace, and have a dirty mind-

[fletchergames]

Ace Trainers

[All comics in order here]

[fletchergames]

I think, "How do I know that you and me

See the same colors the same way when you and me see?"

Is my red blue for you, or my green your green too?

Could it be true we see differing hues?

And say we do, then how would we discover this fact?

And even if we did, would there be any impact?

I don't think this would affect us personally

But I think it would have ripple effects throughout the interior design industry

one of my things with love is that i think it's probably like colors. yeah we have a thing that we all sort of agree is red. but we have no way to know if other people see red the same way as us. your red could be totally different from mine and we would never know because it has functionally the same relation to all of us and so we all just call it red. i have no way of knowing if anyone else on earth feels love the exact same way in which i do and in fact i think most people probably don't...

[fletchergames]

Slutshaming women is not ok Slutshaming Alexander Hamilton is totally ok Tumblr logic

[fletchergames]

Impound lot officer: You can't get the car without a detective signing off on it

Hardison and Eliot (who literally have a detective waiting for them at Nate's apartment): Yeah let's climb the fence/flirt instead