#“not really capturing the majesty. maybe in different filter...”

[kronofobia]

As I promised, I took some photos of the blorbos ehehe

And here comes my personal favourite:

"But like the hands on a clock, there were two"

Bonus: Krux is happy that Acronix finally touched some grass

[britesparc]

Weekend Top Ten #433

Top Ten Things I Want from Xbox Series X

June is Games Month here at David’s Top Tens! That’s right, all month long we’re exploring the majesty of what we all used to call “computer games” before we became too cool. That’s because it’s the time of year when huge multinationals tantalise us with pre-rendered cinematics showcasing gaming experiences utterly divorced from what we’ll get to play. Even in this Time of Crisis (as opposed to a Time Crisis), games companies are still Touting Their Wares, and as such, I am brimming with fanboy fervour, tantalised at the prospect of Gaming Yet to Come. This week alone has seen sexy new videos from the likes of EA, Pokémon, and Sony – whose PlayStation 5 reveal gave us the best glimpse yet at exactly what the next generation could look like. I was impressed; although there wasn’t too much in the way of radically new concepts or whatever, games looked good, with plenty of sexy, shiny new bells and whistles, and it looked like environments will be bigger, more fluid, and more reactive than ever before. Plus seeing the ray-tracing in Ratchet and Clank: Rift Apart gave me serious “Quake II running on a 3D accelerator card” vibes. Suddenly I was sixteen again, getting all sticky-knickered over texture filtering and coloured lightning.

It was great.

However, I’m pretty much an Xbox-first gamer; mostly, I suppose, due to inertia, having gotten used now to how an Xbox works, to the point where a PlayStation always feels a little alien (still wanna play The Last of Us Part II, though). I’m more of a fan of the Xbox game franchises – the main reason I bought an original Xbox in the first place (way back in 2001) was to play Halo: Combat Evolved, and because of the promise of Fable. This love of Xbox games has only grown with the acquisition of Rare (despite the slight misstep of Perfect Dark Zero) and the release of games like Crackdown, Gears, and Forza Horizon. So as much as I try to be open-minded – and certainly I try to avoid any kind of partisan mud-slinging – I guess I’m pretty much in the tank for Xbox. As such, I’m phenomenally excited for Xbox Series X. I got an Xbox One at launch, and despite all of the hullaballoo and criticism, I’ve always really liked it. I think it’s kind of struggled compared to its predecessors (cult favourite OG Xbox and revolutionary Xbox 360), and hasn’t quite had the era-defining games that both of those enjoyed. All that being said, though, I’ve had loads of fun with it, and so have my wife and kids. But I’ve stuck with the same machine all these years, never upgrading to the more streamlined Xbox One S or the super-duper-sexy Xbox One X. So when I do upgrade, I think the jump will be far more noticeable than someone who’s been enjoying Red Dead Redemption 2 or Gears 5 on a 4K display; it should really feel like a new generation. And that’s before we get to all of the traced rays and other lovely gubbins.  

Anyway, when it’s this time of year, I tend to do a semi-comical “E3 predictions” list, followed by a “Stuff I liked at E3” list. Obviously E3 isn’t really happening, but these other online game reveals are, and given my aforementioned excitement over Series X – and Microsoft’s upcoming and much-anticipated reveal of first-party titles – I thought I’d divert my thoughts to what I want to see on the new console. However, unlike the traditional E3 predictions of yore, I’m going to look at what I’d like from the console rather than what games I’d like to see. Partly that’s because these announcement videos are getting spread so far and wide that it’s hard to keep track of what’s been revealed or when we’re likely to see something; partly it’s because we already know quite a few Xbox games that are coming out; and partly because the list would just degenerate into older franchises I want to see come back round again. Plus, with Crackdown 3 having already happened, a new Fable more-or-less an open secret, and a new Perfect Dark being very heavily rumoured, my go-to “wants” are getting thin on the ground. Perhaps Tim Schafer can bring his old LucasArts classics to the Xbox next year…? Whatever, this time around, I’m looking at that big black box and thinking about what features and design elements I’d like to see. What could be improved from how the Xbox One works? How would I like Microsoft to leverage their assets – from the faster SSD to the power of Project xCloud? Basically, what do I want Xbox Series X to be like, outside from glittering reflections on Master Chief’s shiny armour?

Streamlined, faster dashboard: now they’ve already said that the Xbox Series X dash will be effectively identical to the Xbox One dash, which is a trifle disappointing, but I hope that doesn’t mean that both systems can’t get an improved dashboard before Christmas. At the moment things are a bit fiddly, and I’d like to use the improved SSD to mean seamless transitions from page to page. Make it super-easy to get to your game library. Allow more customisation of the landing page. How about allowing us to resize icons, like on Windows 10? Don’t have quite so many obscure categories clogging up the front page. Use the shoulder buttons to hop between sections. Make it more about the games I can play rather than connectivity, shopping, or chatting. Stuff like that.

Integrated streaming: with Project xCloud on the (official) horizon, hopefully we can integrate that service into how the Xbox works. How’s about letting us stream demos straight from the store? Or stream games while they install/download? Or the option to stream any game we own rather than play it from the console? Or cast games from console to phone, or tablet, or PC, so we can enjoy the benefits of Series X hardware in the palm of our hands?

Discless play: teased then withdrawn from the Xbox One launch as it require the internet to check, I hope this can make a belated return. I like physical media, but I also like not having to get off the couch to change discs. I’d be very willing to accept an always-on connection as the price for playing a game without the disc in. If they could find some way to implement this and keep everyone happy, I’d be delighted.

Improved Guide menu: the best thing about the Xbox 360 interface was the Guide menu, which – certainly by the end of the generation – basically offered you full console functionality from one simple pause-button menu. The One Guide has been refined but could go further. Offer instant access to all our games, and all the system settings. Let us seamlessly jump from one thing to another and back again. Let us view all our captures quickly and easily. And let us go through game-by-game and see all our achievements, cycling through their related imagery. Basically, make it more like the 360, please.

Standardised settings: another amazing thing the 360 did that was totally walked back for the One is the idea of having a standardised range of settings that were applied across your entire profile. So if you want to invert your Y-axis, you tick one box, then all games are inverted. This was fantastic, and Microsoft were daft for undoing it. Make it good again! You have the power!

Refined subscription services: I think Game Pass is the future of Xbox, and I think xCloud is the future of Game Pass. This seems fairly obvious to me. I don’t know how much money Microsoft makes from Game Pass, but the way they’re leveraging their entire gaming strategy around it suggests that it’s a much stronger money-spinner for them than the traditional console market. I just hope that eventually the myriad Xbox subscriptions can be refined. Perhaps “Gold” as we understand it could be retired, replaced with a simple three-tier monthly sub, similar to Netflix; Game Pass Bronze (limited multiplayer, limited ability to download games from the library); Silver (Gold and Game Pass as we understand it, plus limited streaming), and Gold (all the games plus full streaming of everything)? This would, hopefully, mean we could get some of the benefits at a reduced cost (say, a fiver a month), and the “free” games in Game Pass would offset the loss of Games With Gold, perhaps.

Switch app: simply put, this would be cool: the ability to stream Xbox games on a Switch. Nothing more to it than that, really; the Switch form factor and controls would lend themselves to the Xbox experience effortlessly, and it’d mean I could continue my Halo campaign whilst my wife hogs the Xbox with Stardew Valley again.

Tangible differences between generations: on the one hand, I really applaud Microsoft’s blended approach to console generations. Smart Delivery, Backwards Compatibility, and Play Anywhere combine to form a very consumer-friendly approach; if you a buy a game now, you’re more-or-less guaranteed the best possible version come the Series X launch in November (or whenever). The downside to this, however, is a slight nagging feeling that we’re not going to see the best that the console can do; it’s fair enough that the Xbox One and Series X versions of Halo Infinite are, to all intents and purposes, on the same disc, and your progress and achievements carry over; but does this not mean that, aside from improvements in graphics and loading times, the Series X version is functionally identical? Is it just like upgrading a graphics card? Ratchet and Clank boasted some nifty dimension-hopping technology that presumably is a core part of the gameplay and looked like something that maybe wasn’t possible this gen; will Xbox owners miss out on features like that? If Series X could, say, give us a new Fable that presented as one continuous open world with no “hubs” or separated areas or loading, with some kind of magical traversal that allowed us to rocket across the landscape on a broomstick or whatever, would that not be handicapped by having to carry save game data over from the inevitable Xbox One version? Basically, I’m fascinated by how it’s going to work, but I hope we’re not going to end up slightly short-changed from a featureset point of view.

New hardware: not just the Series X itself, obviously; and not even the strongly-rumoured “Series S” either. I mean other bits and bobs. As they’ve already shown us the controller, I can’t realistically wish for one that had a microphone in it, but a tiny mic attachment maybe? Alongside the obvious headset. I wanna talk to the machine, basically; it was the one genuine benefit of Kinect. Also: a new, improved, media remote. A wireless mouse and keyboard, or some kind of lap-based hybrid. A new camera, not as invasive or scary as Kinect, just so we can use the Xbox to Skype people. And y’know what? VR support. Doesn’t have to be unique, bespoke headsets; just let us use PC ones, and let developers support VR in Xbox games. I don’t have the money or space to upgrade my laptop to be VR-ready, but if I had a PlayStation you can be damn sure I’d have PSVR. Half-Life: Alyx might be a pipe dream, but can I play Star Wars Squadrons at least?

Don’t bankrupt me: yeah, this. I’m cautiously optimistic that Microsoft will at least attempt to make this manageable; the recent rumour that it’d sell for $399 was much appreciated even if I think it’s supremely unlikely, especially if Lockheart/Series S is a thing. With Sony giving out noises that the PS5 will be a “good value” proposition rather than cheap, I think MS will strongly attempt to undercut them, but also not feel the need to go stupidly low. So please, Microsoft: $450, top end. Please don’t give us a $499 box. I’m already gonna be forking out for a new TV so I’d appreciate if I could keep the whole cost. For what it’s worth, I think the prices of all the new consoles will be: PS5 $499; XSX $449; PS5 DE $399; XSS $299. There you go: I managed to slip in an E3 prediction right at the very end. Prove me wrong, guys!

Phew, that was another epic one. But it was fun. I guess it’s weird to try to talk about the feel of a console without having used it. There are things I’d like improving with the look and feel of Xbox, but it’s hard to quantify it; stuff that’s clunky on a daily basis. And I’m probably an edge case anyway: someone with a huge interest in games and gaming, but who’s not very interested in multiplayer, and who – because of time and money but mostly time – rarely plays new releases, and takes ages to complete a game. But anyway. I’m dead excited about the Xbox Series X, and I can’t wait to hear more.

[crossedbeams]

Mass

MSR || On-The-Run || Angst || Easter Ficlet because I was having feelings

Mulder doesn’t stir when he feels her slip out of the motel bed, her footsteps Scully-soft to the the grimy little bathroom and the door eased shut. He’s not sure if she wants him to be awake, they haven’t said much since she turned hard off the freeway at 3am, and rolled to a stop in the parking lot. Something in her eyes told him not to ask, not to question why they were choosing to ignore their “no big cities rule” for Pittsburgh, of all places, and so he’d got the bags while she got the key, the grimy sun setting heavily behind her bleached out hair on the washed out walkway.

Afternoon sunshine stares through the blinds but he’s still lying still, trying to breathe sleepily when Scully emerges on a wave of her still familiar shower soap, and pauses at the foot of the bed. Mulder can feel her thinking, and holds his breath through her indecision, relief spreading from his lungs to his heart as Scully’s small hand wraps around his ankle.

‘Mulder?’ His morning breaks on her first word and he smiles at the thought though she is serious, stood in a worn but respectable floral dress she’d picked up last week in Goodwill, his only suit hanging from one finger. ‘Mulder, will you-’

‘Yes.’ He tells her. No questions, he would do anything for her. 

Scully watches him dress with a distant look in her eye, the still unfamiliar blonde of her hair a veil over one eye, and for a second he imagines marrying her, throwing aside fake names and false security for one moment of unity in the eyes of her God. But he was too selfish, choosing to have this runaway love in dark corners and forgotten towns, for as long as they can stay ahead of danger instead of that one true moment. He wonders if Scully shares that regret.

He looks for it in her eyes when she steps close to straighten his tie, but finds a peace there he had thought lost forever, just barely glossing over the tears he pretends not to hear her crying in the shower, but there nonetheless. She takes his hand and walks them into the late Friday sunshine.

The cab drops them two blocks from their destination, caution is always a factor, even though the weighty shadow of St Patrick’s Cathedral presses down on them and the throngs of other people tumbling into it’s gravity. Church on a Friday? Mulder thinks, and then it hits him. 

Good Friday. Light Easter suits all tumbling into a sacred place to remember a death. Scully seems to feel his comprehension and squeezes his hand, the incline of her head offering him an escape, but Mulder knows she wouldn’t have asked him to come if she hadn’t needed him here. 

He can’t remember the last time he was in a church, let alone one this full of people, and his momentary panic at being in a crowd is dulled by the echoing majesty of the space, the smallness of their predicament in this vaulted melting pot of people. Scully’s hand is sure in his, her movements purposeful as she finds space on a pew tucked behind a pillar, near to a fire exit, careful even in this small recklessness. The wood is hard against the back of his knees, the grey stone cold around him but the people, so many people, ebb and flow in muted colours and it has been so long since they were part of a crowd, so long since it has been more than just them against the world that Mulder doesn’t even notice the hush as the service starts, doesn’t notice anything until Scully letting go of his hand and sinking to her knees to clasp hers in prayer.

Mulder watches her lips form the Latin words of whatever the priest is saying, the woman he loves folded in the trappings of her faith, one of hundreds tasting those same words, feeling... whatever succour the faithful find in this moment. He’s briefly and intensely jealous; of God, of the church, of everybody who can understand this part of Scully that he has never been able to fathom. And then the music starts and his momentary pettiness dissolves into an entirely unexpected swirl of strings, accusatory horns and all chased down with the resonant growl of the organ. Beside him Scully sits back, a small smile of recognition on her lips but her head stays bowed, her hands held tightly enough that it’s as if she believes she is holding together the notes of every cadence.

Scully listens, lit from above by the evening light that filters weakly through the blue glass of the Virgin Mary’s robe, the shine on her cheek at the end of the Kyrie maybe a tear, or maybe an illusion, but either way she is beautiful. Mulder watches her listen, learns her from this devotional angle as the chorus soar around the arches of the cathedral and tumble back to the earth in crumbling chords. If only he could touch her without breaking the moment, Mulder thinks he could stay here for ever, suspended in this holy half-reality. These are Scully’s people, this is a safe space for her, and somehow the music has made him part of it, catching in his blood and imploring him to confess all those things he is trying not to feel; anger sparks on a diminished seventh and is soothed by the forgiveness of a perfect cadence. If they stay here long enough maybe the music could fix everything.

But the second the Agnus Dei ends, Scully is pulling him away, not even pausing for the blessing, her purpose fulfilled and her urgency ruffling the edge of the congregation until the heavy door swings closed behind them. Long paving slabs mark off the distance they are already putting between themselves and whatever just happened. 

Mulder still hasn’t asked why, hasn’t questioned any of it, knowing Scully will explain when, or if, she is ready, knowing that pushing her will only poison the air between Pittsburgh and wherever they run to next. He only hopes he doesn’t have to wait long. Scully rewards him as he folds his suit back into the holdall, bent over the basin in her slip, scrubbing at some invisible stain off the hem of the dress.

‘They were playing Saint-Saëns’ Requiem.’ 

Mulder hums, as if he knows what that means and waits for more, keeping his eyes on the dress held critically to the light instead of the half bare body behind it, whatever Scully is about to tell him, he wants to know more than he wants to feel her, though god does he want to feel-

‘Many consider Saint-Saëns to be a second rate composer. And he wasn’t a Catholic, so there’s a lot of questions as to whether he should even have written the Requiem. But he did, and he wrote it to be the approximate length that an actual mass would take, so it could be used instead of just performed. He wrote his own piece, but fit it to the Catholic church, he found a balance between respect and individuality. He wanted it to be used for worship... but people don’t use it very often.’

‘Because it’s no good? Or because he wasn’t a Catholic?’ Mulder asks, ‘Because I liked it a lot.’

And clearly for once he has said the right thing.

‘I love it.’ Scully says, with that defiant vigour he first fell in love with. ‘I’m not a very good Catholic, or a scholar of classical music but I find energy in his arrangement, it’s tormented and ecstatic all at once, there’s just some sort of conflict that makes me feel...’

‘Human?’ Mulder offers. 

And she smiles the smile with all the teeth, the one that folds her face differently, as though she doesn’t carry more tragedy than any woman should, but it dissolves too fast for him to capture.

‘Exactly. I saw the sign on the freeway and I had to stop. I had to go. I don’t miss the church... not really. Not most days. But it’s Easter, and I’d go with my mom... or it would have been... William... his first one you know... I didn’t know how to explain that. I just needed to go. I just needed to feel human.’

Mulder can’t remember the last time Scully mentioned William by name. He can’t remember the last time she admitted having human weaknesses. The lump in his throat thickens as he watches her breathe past the tears, scrunching the unfortunate dress in her hands before tossing it in the trashcan.

‘Thank you for taking me with you.’ 

He means it. 

‘You know we can go any time. If you wan’t to? If you need to confess or... I don’t know how it works Scully, but if you need to go, we can find ways.’

Scully crosses to him, and takes his hand, her posture once again that of prayer, though now they are in it together and her words are directed at the floor because they are too heavy to utter stood upright.

‘The problem is Mulder, I don’t know how it works right now. I... I want to believe, to find that peace I remember but... it’s not working for me right now. And you can’t confess things you plan to do again for forgiveness.’

He lifts her chin, offering her his forgiveness because it is all he has. Offering her a way out if she wants it. 

‘Would you? Do it all again’ he asks, the soft words on his lips the closest thing to a prayer he’s uttered in the past year.

And Scully gives him one more miracle.

‘All of it. Every case. Every kiss.’ Her hand lays over his heart, absolving him of some of his guilt. ‘Everything except giving him up. If I’d known...’ and she runs out of bravery. Runs out of words but it’s enough for one evening.

They stay like that a long time, Scully’s forehead pressed to his chest, Mulder’s arms her only sanctuary and the silence of their sorrow their Easter Mass. 

They never return to Pittsburgh.