#ALSO THE STUPID. THE STUPID GLITCH MECHANIC WOULD HAVE WORKED BETTER

[blackholebunni]

anyways since security breach has been out for a while now i can say that i am forever salty that they didnt connect glamrock bonnie's decommisioning to vanny and made it so that she was wearing bonnie's suit as an homage to afton's bull. I think a shambling defunct animatronic chasing after you would have been really cool and possibly scarier

[hoodoo12]

Play and Funtime

I’ve seen lots of screenshots and fanart, but where is the written Robofizz smut?  sigh  Just have to do it myself jk jk

Although writing your first fic in a new fandom is nerve-wracking, I’m excited to do it and I hope you guys like it.

NSFW; Robofizz/imp!reader, TENTACLES YOU THIRSTY PEOPLE

@go-commander-kim @monsterlovinghours @mimiscappinisideblog @jesterfestivle @beetlebitchywitch @realmonsterboyhours @yankyo

Enjoy! `

It wasn’t your choice. You were clear on that.

But coerced by so-called ‘friends’ you found yourself in the very front row in front of the stage, with excited, chattering implings around you and excited, chattering friends on either side, all eagerly waiting for the show to start. You’d even been forced to enter the big top early, “to get the best seats!”, so now you were a combination of both bored and a wee bit anxious.

That clown always unnerved you.

The sparks, the glitches, the unnatural movements that were much more fluid than you thought should be possible--if anything was impossible here, with enough imagination or lacking that, determination and money--the AI that seemed a little bit too good . . . the Robotic Fizzarolli was not your idea of family entertainment. 

But here you were. You vowed to keep your head down during the show, to avoid seeing the robot and his animatronic backup band, then when it was over you could all leave and go do something actually fun.

When the lights went down you dropped your chin. Everyone else was cheering, so no one would notice you were not. 

Just as you remembered from your early imphood, the spotlight lit up and the Robotic Fizzarolli burst onto the stage in full song. The rest of the audience clapped and sang along. You remained steadfast in your resolve to just wait this out, your eyes locked on your clasped hands in your lap. 

Which meant you were completely taken off guard when a hand slipped under your chin and lifted your head. 

You found yourself face to face with the robot, who was focused solely on you, grinning widely, showing a large number of sharp teeth. 

“N-n-not having f-fun?” it asked.

“Wha-what? N-no--I mean yes,” you stuttered in surprised response, inadvertently sounding like you had a glitch as well. 

The robot cocked its head a bit too far to be natural, its optic sensors giving nothing away while it studied you. The crowd in the stands, including your friends, were watching with breathless anticipation. 

“I th-think you could be having a better t-t-time,” the Robotic Fizzarolli concluded, but to your immense relief, it released your chin and returned to the stage to finish its number, to the return of screams and cheers of delight. 

Soon after, the curtain closed and you sighed in relief. Loudly, you told your group, “You got your show. Now let’s get out of here.” “No, look, look!” the imp next to you exclaimed. “You got a token!”

Confused, you wrinkled your brow. “A token?” “She got a token!” “She got a token!” The imps you’d come in with crowded around, more excited than during the show. You even saw some of the imps who’d been leaving the tent turn and give you what looked like envious glances. You had no idea what any of this meant. “Look look look!” Finally you had the wherewithal to realize they were talking about something in your hand. It was exactly what they said--a flat, oval token etched on both sides with the jester’s face, and what looked like circuitry embedded in it. Very tiny letters around the edge spelled out, “Robofizz’s Play and Funtime!” You had to squint to read them. You had no idea where it came from. Your friends continued to talk over each other in their excitement.

“Robofizz gave it to you! When he came down and talked to you!” “Oh my gosh--yes! That must have been it!”

“You’re so fucking lucky! I’d kill to get one of those!” All the chatter didn’t make you less confused. The Robotic Fizzarolli must have given it to you somehow? You’d been so startled when it touched you and addressed you directly you had no clue it’d slipped something to you. Your hands had been clasped so tightly you hadn’t noticed the small token. Feeling overwhelmed, you offered it to them. “Then you can have it! Take it!” But as excited as your friends were, they all declined with explanations that it only worked for the imp it was given to, that there was some technology that imprinted on the imp who touched it first, so as jealous as they were, it was useless to them. You had never heard about anything like this before, but then again, you always bolted out the exit when the show was barely over.

Still feeling overwhelmed and now lost and stupid, you asked, “What do I do with it?”

“You get to go backstage and meet Robofizz!” 

That was something you did not want to do, but your friends would have none of that loser talk. They insisted you were selected, it was a rare treat, you were not letting them down by pussing out on having a private meet-and-greet with the star of the show! Despite your weak protests, you were herded along to a discreet door hear the stage. They--not you--knocked, and when a small window opened and suspicious eyes appeared, they--not you--told whoever was there that you had a token.

“Show me,” a low voice ordered, though the door. Resigned, you held up the disk.

There was a grunt, and the sounds of multiple locks disengaging. In another moment, the door creaked open. There was no one in the hallway beyond. “Come on, let’s go!” the same voice ordered. Your friends pushed you through the doorway, shouting good luck and have fun! The door slammed shut on them and it same clanking of the locks came again to secure it. It was much more ominous on this side. The hallway was dimly lit with flickering bulbs that seemed ready to die, but there was no where else to go, so you carefully made your way down it. 

⁂

You had no idea where you were supposed to go or what you were supposed to be doing. Keeping hold of the token so tightly your fist hurt, you figured it had gotten you past the door so it would get you past anyone or anything else that may ask what the hell you were doing here. But there was no one to be found. In the wavering overhead lights you wandered up some stairs and found yourself on stage, behind the curtain. The animatronic band was silent on their stands, creepier when immobile and staring than when they were booted up to perform, which you had never imagined could be the case. 

The Robotic Fizzarolli was not with them. That surprised you. If these robots were here, where was the star of the show? Chills went down your spine and with a horrible thought, you glanced up into the catwalks above the stage, as if expecting to see it there like a spider waiting to drop onto its prey. 

Nothing. 

“Hello?” you finally called. 

Nothing. 

You started back towards the hallway, thinking this was a mistake. Your soft footsteps echoed oddly in the silence. You would leave and tell your friends there was nothing, that you knew it was all a waste of time. 

“H-hello there. Wel-wel-welcome!” 

Startled, you spun fast enough to trip, and were caught by the robot that haunted your nightmares. 

It leered as it groped you into standing stead on your feet again. “You were the-the one who wasn’t having fun at my sh-show! I’m so-so-so glad you decided to join me!” Your tongue was stuck to the roof of your mouth but you managed to babble, “I wasn’t--I mean, your show was fine, it was good--” A glitchy, mechanical tsk cut you off. “No, no, no--I c-can tell. And th-that’s no good, not having fun. You seemed like you needed a little ex-extra convincing, and I’m pro-pro-programed to accommodate.”

You were sure your friends would know exactly what that might mean, but the leer had not left the robot’s face and it sounded more sinister than anything. You had seen the signage about “Peronal Companion”, but never spent too much time thinking about it--

It seemed to be waiting for a response. “I, uh . . .” You cleared your throat. “I have . . . a token?”

If it was even possible, the light of its eyes shone even brighter at the sight of you holding the disk. “Now those are fun,” it exclaimed, “for both of us. Let’s g-go.” Without another word and without warning, you were dragged deeper into the gloom further backstage. You stumbled to keep up, but that didn’t slow the robot down. There were turns down hallways that seemed to go on longer than should be possible for an amusement part theater, but finally, when you were out of breath and completely turned around, you were hauled to a stop outside another door. 

“Before w-we go in, g-g-giving or re-receiving?”

The glitches in its voice made it even more difficult to understand what the hell it was saying. Several moments passed while you untangled the question in your head. The Robotic Fizzarolli waited with mechanical patience and an unsettling stillness, although its eyes never left yours. “Uhmm . . .” The token had been given to you, like a gift, so would it be odd to ask for more? But you were the guest here. “ . . . receiving? I guess?” That leer returned to its face. There was a faint clicking noise, as if something was shifting inside the robot’s body, and it said, “Excel-excellent choice.”

It opened the door and ushered you inside. 

The room was designed for imps in mind. Well, imps of a certain predilection. Whips, handcuffs, ankle cuffs, ball gags, harnesses, various sizes of dildos--also in various shapes--hung neatly on the walls. Some wooden contraption with shackles at various points stood in a corner. There was a bench that looked as though it could be raised to various heights with the same shackles, but also a split for a tail to fit through if the imp secured on it was on their back. There were other instruments and adornments you had no name for, as your eyes swept the room.

“D-don’t l-look so worried,” the robot assured you, although you weren’t reassured in the least. “All that is only if-if it’s chosen. The selection is com-completely randomized.” You tore your eyes away from the implements in the room. “What do you mean?” “The-the-the token. Put it in the slot, and we’ll see wh-what prize you get.” That made little to no sense, till you realized Robofizz indicated a small slot on its side. Carefully, you raised your hand and pushed the token into it, which made the robot give a full body twitch like an extra jolt of electricity ran through it. You jerked your hand back; the sparks that flew from it haphazardly were one of the things you disliked most about it. 

There was a clanking noise, like the token was hitting and bouncing off things inside its body, plus a odd, whirring noise. You realized a panel on its chest was actually a screen, and something was spinning inside it. It was a blur, but gradually began to slow enough that you could see whatever it was had words etched on it. Now it was slow enough you could read them as they moved into and out of the screen. bdsm tentacles

vibration

Round and round they went. The words continued to flick past, gradually becoming slower and slower.

With a dawning that took you way too long, it became apparent whatever the last word was going to be was the decision. Maybe other imps or demons would use the Robotic Fizzarolli as personal companion and know exactly what they wanted, but there was also a randomizer feature to keep things lively!

The robot continued to stand eerily still as this continued. It was like both of you were holding your breath in anticipation.

The roller slowed enough to halt. The final outcome that you weren’t even sure you were prepared for blinked on and off in tiny white lights on his chest--

“Tentacles,” Robofizz announced.

⁂

“Tentacles?!” you squeaked. 

You got a nod in response. “A very pop-pop-popular feature. Would you like to remove your clothing, or simply re-relax and let me do all the w-work?” “But-but . . . there’s no bed or--” you cast your eyes around the room again, looking for anything that would lend weight to your argument that maybe just a simple handshake and an autograph would suffice. “No bed n-n-needed,” Robofizz countered. “I am designed to not need to sit or lay down, and-and I am pro-programmed to support you in m-multiple positions.” He was between you and the door, and now the aforementioned tentacles made their appearance, slipping out from some unknown port in his back. They were striped and limber, flexing as though they’d been kept in too small an area for too long and needed to work out the kinks. That couldn’t be the case, being a machine, so all you could figure was that it was designed to imitate life. The first of them--you weren’t even sure of their number--moved through the space between you and the robot. “Fizzarolli--” “Oh, such f-formality! No n-n-need for that either, baby.” That was the first time it’d used a pet name, again probably designed to make this all more personable. “Call me Fizz,” he cooed, all the while still showing too many teeth, invading your personal space, and managing to wrap you up with two tentacles. They pulled you into his torso, which wasn’t as cold as you expected it to be. Neither were the tentacles, now that you thought about it. More of them began to nose around you. “Some rules, baby. This can go as hard as you want. J-just say the word. N-n-nothing’s off limits. My-my-my next show is this evening, so you have me-me-me till then . . . you want ex-extra time, you gotta p-pay for it. “Q-Questions?” Dumbly, you shook your head. “Then let’s b-begin.”

⁂

You’d never be able to give enough detail about the encounter. You’d been asked, multiple times, and simply couldn’t put it into words. How could you describe the unusual sensuality of tentacles sliding under your clothing and removing it from you? How could you impress how strong but delicate they were, wrapping around your limbs with the perfect amount of pressure, raising you off your feet so you felt like you were floating? How you could possibly tell them that other tentacles roamed your skin, tickling you, exploring, awakening new erogenous zones you were unware exisited? How could you admit that all of that lasted an indeterminate amount of time, until you were writhing against the restraint, not to get away, now, but to try and pull him--the Robotic Fizzarolli was no longer an genderless it in your mind, but a him--closer while begging for more? When tears filled your eyes at the force of your pleas, he moved in closer to you, almost close enough to kiss. He seemed fascinated by your tears, and from between his sharp teeth came what must be the robot equivalent of a tongue. It lapped at your cheek, collecting the wet. You had no idea what that was all about, but in the next moment couldn’t devote any time to wondering. As promised, Robofizz accommodated. You’d asked, and another tentacle from Robofizz filled you in smooth, firm motion. You arched your back at the pleasurable friction it created inside you.  

How could you continue to admit that your begging didn’t stop, but increased, wanting, no needing more while being fucked suspended in mid-air by an amusement park clown? That the random showers of sparks that you hated before became something you craved, each little spark leaving a mild burn on your skin that didn’t hurt, but only served to make your nerve endings sing out? Or that during it all he’d talked, the rasp and glitching words of dirty encouragement to, “take it deeper” and “you’re soaking w-w-wet” and “gr-greedy little slut”, which only added to the debauchery, that although it was obvious he could and would be rough and aggressive he gave you just what you needed, and all you wanted was more and more and more-- Even after all that, the finale that would be hard for anyone to believe, including yourself if you didn’t experience it: Robofizz telling you, after you’d been wrung dry from countless orgasms, that the tips of his tentacles--and other, specific, parts of his body--were laced with nano-circuitry to simulate nerves, and he could feel every single internal clutch around his tentacle--

The session ended with you sucking on the tips of multiple tentacles, like an assortment of cocks, while still being fucked to a few more orgasms. When you were finally released, your legs were weak and you were drenched between your legs. You’d drooled so much you were laved with spit. It took you a bit of time to collect yourself and get your clothes back on; your hands trembled with residual bliss for long moments. Robofizz, whose tentacles disappeared again, walked you back to the corridor you’d come in. “Five m-m-minutes till showtime,” he told you.

You had no idea if robots had a sense of humor, but you tried anyway. “That was a pretty good show you just put on.” You got that unnatural head cock again, but he grinned and reminded you, 

“You want ex-extra time, you gotta p-pay for it.” “I know,” you replied, already trying to calculate how you could afford to return and book another private “Robofizz’s Play and Funtime!”. You were eager to try out different features. “How do I . . .?” “The-the d-door will remember you. It’s h-his job,” the robot answered your unfinished question, as if it was one he got frequently. You nodded as if you understood, then impulsively stretched upward to kiss him. He wasn’t startled--he was a robot, after all--but you gave him a smile and slipped back through the door to the front of the theater. You had to find your friends. It wasn’t your choice, sitting in the audience to watch a robotic jester entertain a crowd of imps. 

But next time, it would be. 

fin!

[axxeras]

Jay visits the ports nearly every day to see the ocean. He talks to it about his day, hoping Nya will hear (and maybe that she will return). He also refuses to mention her in the past tense. Is, not was, because she’s not dead. Away, maybe, but not not not not dead.

"Hi, Nya! Look, I brought sandwiches. This one's for you, your favorite! That Fugi-Dove guy escaped again, and let me tell you...”

Zane doesn't think it's a healthy coping mechanism. He thinks it would be better for Jay to completely accept that she is gone. Jay can't even consider stopping without another crack appearing in his heart. So any time Zane softly suggests that he stay away from the ocean for a while, Jay pretends he didn't hear.

“Jay, perhaps it is time to accept that she will not return...”

Kai never liked him doing that. He accompanied him once to the seaside. Seeing Jay talk like that, as if she was right there, he couldn't handle it. He snapped, telling Jay that Nya was gone and would never come back. Jay stopped speaking to him for a while after that. It’s not that Kai wanted to upset him - but with Jay talking like she could hear him, like she was there, how was Kai ever supposed to move on?

"She's. GONE. It's been months, Jay! When are you gonna move on? Everyone else has!" (A complete lie - though Kai was fully aware that she might as well have been dead, it had been incredibly hard for him to come to terms with it. He still struggled daily.)

Cole found it... sad. He saw how Jay was during the funeral and the days after it, but this was something else entirely. He’s a lot nicer to Jay now, and whenever he sees him getting ready to head to the shore, he invites him to do something together instead. Sometimes it works. Usually it doesn’t. But Cole thinks its better to let Jay know he’s there for him. He might destroy himself otherwise.

“Heya! Wanna play Prime Empire? I found this stupid glitch I wanted to show you.

“...No? Okay. See you later, then...!”

[dweetwise]

Jeff ADOPTING THE LEGION! Like the glitch of 4 killers spawning and 1 survivor. The legion gets to have races and be stupid(er) for a match. Frank shows off how to totally do a gen!

[anon gets it. this was super fun to write, hope you enjoy!]

just legion being brats and jeff being a dad. some references to this ask!

Jeff babysits the Legion: ficlet

Jeff is in the middle of rolling up some bandages for his med-kit, waiting for the others to arrive at the pre-trial campfire. When the familiar smoky tendrils start creeping up his legs, he looks around with a frown on his face; nope, still just him. He’s reminded of the last time the Entity decided to start a trial with less than four survivors, and he groans in annoyance, hoping he doesn’t have to put up with three grizzlys this time.

When Jeff opens his eyes, he’s in the middle of Mt. Ormond's snowy grounds and predictably, he’s alone; not the most promising start. He reluctantly makes his way to the lodge, keeping a lookout for angry bears. With no heartbeat in earshot, Jeff crouches by the generator and gets to work, but as soon as the first piston starts moving, he realizes he has company.

“Well, well, well, look what we have here!” one of the Legion, he thinks Julie, sneers at him from the second floor, leaning cockily against the railing. “Man oh man, you came to the wrooong place,” a man in a skull mask comes up beside her, spinning his knife in a threatening manner. That must be Joey. “We’re gonna gut you like a pig,” Julie says, spitting out the word as she starts making her way down the stairs, sliding down the banister like an unruly child.

Jeff sighs and gets up on his feet. One of the Legion brats he can deal with, but two? Better to just get this over with.

“How are you both here?” Jeff asks, undisturbed by Julie getting right up in his face. “Not a very fair match, if you ask me.” “'Both’? You don’t know the half of it,” Joey snickers, probably sharing a knowing look with Julie; it’s hard to tell with the masks. Jeff is about to ask him to elaborate, when a sharp pain flares up his shoulder. “Oops, sorry!” a third member of the Legion--Susie, the one with braces, says from behind him, retracting the knife from his shoulder. “What’s a little stabby-stab between old friends, huh?” “I preferred when you paid me with beer, not stabs,” Jeff grits out through the pain, glancing at the faded mural he made for the group’s hangout what feels like a lifetime ago. “Ooh, he’s funny!” Julie mocks, gripping her knife better. “Don’t worry, you’ll scream soon enough,” she says, raising her hand. “That’s enough,” a familiar voice interrupts them and Julie lowers her hand without hesitation. Jeff sees Frank walk down the stairs with an annoying cocky swagger, Joey not far behind him. “How nice of you to intervene,” Jeff says to the group’s leader, trying to tone down his sarcasm. 

He’s always thought the Legion kids were nice enough on their own, becoming sort of an annoying hive mind when together, but Frank is by far the worst offender, turning into an insufferable asshole when he is with his little gang.

“Fatty,” Frank acknowledges him, making Julie snort. Jeff rolls his eyes at the juvenile humor. “Dude, what are you doing?” Joey questions. “Just kill him.” “One,” Frank begins, lifting his index finger. “This one’s the least dipshit survivor--not that that’s saying much. Two, as long as he’s alive, we can keep hanging out in the trial. And three--” Frank surges towards Joey, slamming him against a pillar and holding his knife against the other’s throat. “Don’t you dare fucking question me again or I’ll throw you on a hook and leave you to rot.”

Joey holds up his arms in surrender and Frank eventually lowers the knife, still leaning over the other teen menacingly. The air is tense with the threat of violence, and even Julie shifts awkwardly on her feet.

“Oooh!” Susie suddenly exclaims. “Was he the one who helped you when you were a baby survivor?” she asks cheerily, pointing at Jeff and innocently cocking her head.

As Frank sputters something unintelligible, clearly embarrassed, and Julie and Joey snicker to themselves, Jeff feels the tension fade and he can’t help but let out an amused huff of his own.

“I saved him! From a--from a fucking bear!” Frank eventually manages to stammer out. Jeff just smiles knowingly, and feels Frank’s stare digging holes into him as if daring him to bring up the events of their last trial together.

As it turns out, the Legion aren’t too bothered by keeping Jeff around so they can stay in the trial to fuck around. At first, they have a race along the long wall of the cabin, with Joey winning each one, until Jeff comes up with an idea.

“Why don’t I throw down some pallets and mark a couple windows, make an obstacle course for you guys?” “That sounds like fun!” Susie beams, bouncing on her feet and clapping her hands in excitement. “Whatever, I’ll still kick all your asses!” Joey boasts.

Jeff throws together a makeshift obstacle track around the shack side of the map, before giving a countdown to the bunch of unusually focused teens standing in a neat row. On his command, they take off in a frenzy, sprinting to the first window. It takes approximately five seconds for the fighting to start.

“You’re blocking me, asshole!” “Frank broke the pallet!” “Cheater!” “JUUDGE!!” Julie’s annoyed whine has Jeff make his way over to the commotion. He sees Frank on the ground, laughing hysterically while Susie is on top of him and is slapping him with his own mask, with Joey standing next to them, sulking. Julie turns to Jeff and angrily points at the remains of a pallet and Frank’s iridescent button on his jacket. “Frank, you’re disqualified,” Jeff says. “It was just a prank, bro!” Frank laughs while shielding himself from Susie’s wrath.

The three remaining Legion members redo the race, with Julie winning by a landslide. She’s in the middle of boasting to an annoyed Joey, when Frank’s face, now maskless, lights up.

“Bet you guys don’t know how to repair a gen!” “Uhh, yeah, ‘cause we’re not a bunch of pussy survivors?” Joey says, not eager at the idea. “I think someone’s scared of losing. Again,” Frank eggs on. “Oh you’re on.”

Jeff ends up teaching the other three how to repair the machine while Frank just shows off and gives obnoxious comments at the others’ failures. Surprisingly, Susie eventually comes out on top, seeming to be the best mechanic out of the four.

“How are you so good at this?” Julie asks, zapping herself on the wires again. “It’s like a puzzle! Super easy!” Susie beams. “Yeah?? Well try to do it when a bear is on its way to eat you!” Frank argues, clearly annoyed at having been bested.

When the group leaves the generator, the four teens stop dead in their tracks and turn to look at something between two rocks. Jeff hears the familiar sound of echoing winds before he sees the hatch. Huh, he hadn’t even considered the fact it would have been open from the very start of the trial, seeing as he’s the only survivor. He could jump in right now and leave, or one of the killers could kick it shut, starting the two-minute endgame timer. Either way, the Legion’s time together (and his time with them, he reluctantly admits) would be cut short.

“You guys want to make a bonfire?” Jeff suggests, pretending not to notice the collective relief in the kids’ postures at his suggestion. “I doubt the hatch is going anywhere for a while.” “I saw some marshmallows in the lodge!” Susie exclaims.

Frank gathers some rubble for the fire, while Joey helps Jeff carry two couches up on a small hill and Susie and Julie find some marshmallows and blankets in the lodge.

“This is nice,” Susie says later, huddled up in a blanket, sitting between Joey and Jeff and looking up dreamily at the starry sky, fire crackling in front of her with four discarded masks next to it. “These taste like shit and the stars are fake as fuck,” Frank says, spitting out the roasted marshmallow and leaning back on the couch in annoyance. “Well, it’s the nicest we’ve had since we got here,” Susie says quietly, nibbling on her own marshmallow and pulling the blanket tighter around herself. “Susie’s right, lighten up,” Julie says, seemingly elbowing Frank under their shared blanket. “It’s been a fun day.” “Yeah, uh. Thanks, man,” Joey mumbles, and it takes Jeff a second to realize the man is addressing him. “Yess! Thanks for this awesome day Jeff!” Susie says, smile back on her face and actually leaning over to give Jeff a cute half-hug. “And, uh... sorry for stabbing you.” “Nothing a few bandages couldn’t fix,” Jeff says and gives the girl an encouraging pat on her back. “Feel free to come hang out whenever,” Julie says. “Yeah, Frank was right. You’re pretty cool,” Joey says. “I never said that!” Frank, predictably, denies. “But. You know. What she said. About hanging out,” he mutters, awkwardly looking away and gesturing at Julie. “Sure. This has been a nice change of pace. Maybe next time we can spray paint more of the lodge,” Jeff suggests with a small smile. “That would be so cool!” Susie beams. “You do realize we’re still gonna kill you in trials though?” Joey points out. “I wouldn’t expect any less.”

When Jeff finally, and a little reluctantly, makes his way out through the hatch, he finds an obscene amount of bloodpoints waiting for him outside of the trial. There’s also a note, with messy symbols scrawled in an unintelligible language that he can inexplicably read--ah, a note from the Entity. He barks out a hearty laugh as he makes out the contents of the note: “Babysitting bonus: +100 000 BP”.

[dreams-of-a-lark]

(Lark and Elias’s first and last photos together)

TASK 1: THE LAST DAY

January 11, 2016 7:00 AM, EST 12:00 PM, GMT

“Lark, you know I love you—”

“Boring.”

“Mmm fair. It’s fine, I have others. How about this one? Lark, you mean more to me than—” 

“Erh! Nope. Try again.”

“Oh, come on, you barely let me start!”

“Boo hoo… I knew where you were going with it. Got anything else?”

“Just one more, I was saving this one for last. It’s the best one I have, so will you let me actually get going before you stop me this time?” 

“Maybe. Compel me and we’ll see. I want to see you dig into the deep recesses of your soul, pull out your raw, still-beating heart and lay it bare. Otherwise, what am I even here for?”

“You’re unbelievable. But fine… Ahem...” Elias closed his eyes and let out a deep, shuttered sigh, “Lark. Before I met you, I had lost almost all faith in humanity. I found it impossible to believe that anyone acted with genuinely good intentions. I was bitter, cynical, lonely… and then, just as I was on the precipice of giving up on people entirely, there you were. Right on time. This pure light, banishing all my shadows. You are everything I was once sure didn’t exist in reality, but also the most real thing I’ve ever encountered.

The sheer amount of love you have to give blows me away. Love isn’t something you keep a reserve of only for certain special people. For you, love permeates the air around you everywhere you go and anyone lucky enough to meet you or know you gets to breathe it freely. Lark, you are so good, with no expectations or conditions attached to it, but just because it’s your nature. You make me want to be better everyday now, whereas before… I was just working on the motivation to be, period point blank. 

I have had the unfathomable privilege to breathe your love everyday for the past eight years and I hope you’ve felt even a fraction of what you’ve given me reflected back to you. Because, Lark, I love you more than I have the words to say. I love you with every last bit of life in me and I want to love you and feel your love for just that long, until the very last bit of life leaves me and I’m returned to the earth. I don’t know where I’ll be in the next five, ten, fifty years, all I know is I want to be wherever you are. So, Lark Dorian Crain, will you marry me?”

A silence hung in the air accompanied only by a faint mechanical whirring and the low buzz of an LCD screen. Katie finally broke it, her voice glitching and tinny through Elias’s small laptop speakers, “Better.” She said simply.

“Seriously? That’s it?” Elias replied, his voice laden with shock and disappointment.

“Don’t get me wrong, it’s beautiful, definitely a solid start. I almost teared up a few times. But, as all first drafts go, it could use some improvement.”

“It’s not my first draft, though…”

“Eh, feels like a first draft, love.”

“You know, sometimes it’s almost impossible to believe you’re related to Lark, let alone twins?”

“To be fair, do you know anyone in our family that’s really like Lark?”

“Eleanor.”

“Not related to us, stupid.”

“Mmm.. true. Ugh! Katydid... What do I Katy-do?”

“Well, for starters, you could never do whatever that just was again. Secondly, stop worrying about it, seriously. Knowing Lark, you could throw the ring across the deck and say, ‘go fetch if you wanna marry me’ and he’ll be running for it in an instant.”

Elias rolled his eyes, but smiled fondly at the thought of Lark bounding eagerly around the ship. It filled his heart whenever he thought of Lark’s joy, to think he had the power to bring so much of it to the surface baffled him endlessly.

“I’m so nervous,” he admitted.

“You don’t need to be,” Katie reassured him, “All jokes aside, it’s beautiful, and Lark loves you so much. You may not have moved me to tears, but you’ll definitely move him to tears. And then he’s going to blush like a damned schoolgirl and say yes a million times, like the sappy romantic he is.”

“You think so?”

“If he doesn’t, call an exorcist immediately, because that’s not Lark.”

Elias scoffed, but this was comforting encouragement to hear. Nothing he didn’t secretly already know, but it didn’t hurt to be reminded when he was feeling self-conscious. He breathed in deeply, filling up his cheeks with air, then puffing it back out through the small ‘o’ his mouth formed. 

“You’re right, I know.”

“I know you know. Listen, I’ve got to get back to work, love. I can call you when I get off, if you want, but you really should just enjoy your time with him today. Just act like it’s any other day... on a fancy cruise ship with the love of your life. Right?” 

Elias nodded, “Right. No need to call me back, you’re right. I’m just going to enjoy the day with him. Have a good day at work, I’m sure we’ll both call you after it happens.”

“I’ll be sure to hold the phone far away from my ear, so you all can squeal without busting my eardrums. Bye for now, then.”

“Alright. Bye Katie.”

The call ended and Elias closed his computer and looked out over the beautiful expanse of ocean surrounding the ship. Lark was still asleep in their cabin and probably would be for another couple of hours or so, it was nearly impossible to wake him anytime before 9 am. So Elias decided to stay for a while, taking in the peacefulness of the empty deck while the majority of the ship’s passengers slept, rocked by the lullaby of gentle waves.

January 11, 2016 9:00 AM, EST

Elias crept silently back into their cabin to find Lark sleeping fitfully, brows furrowed, eyelids knit tight. This was normally fairly unusual, but lately he’d been experiencing an uptick of nightmares that he didn’t like telling Elias much about for some reason. Elias eased down onto the edge of the bed and carefully lowered a hand down toward his forehead, fingers grazing across, pushing aside a stray curl. Almost instantaneously, Lark’s expression softened at his touch. It was moments like this that reminded him just how strong their connection was, the small gestures that could soothe one another’s most turbulent emotions.

He leaned down and pressed a light kiss on Lark’s cheek at which his eyes fluttered open, gazing weary oceans up at him. A soft smile, wrapt in security accompanied the gaze and Elias felt a pang in his chest as his heart skipped in response. “Morning, sleepyhead,” he sang softly to him.

Lark hummed and curled around where he sat, “Mmmmm… no.”

“No? What do you mean, no?”

“Not morning,” Lark muttered.

“It is, though.”

Lark shook his head, “No,” he mumbled, sleepiness still heavy in his voice, “still nighttime.”

“Oh is it now?” Elias asked, to which Lark nodded. Then, before he had a chance to react, he felt long arms wrap around him and pull him down and over into the bed, “Ah! Lark!” He laughed, “What’s this?”

“We sleep now,” Lark cooed, clearly very pleased with the results as he held Elias close. 

Elias let out another gentle laugh and turned to face the larger man, pressing his forehead to the other’s and cupping his face in his hands. “I love you,” he whispered.

Eyes closed, Lark gave a delighted smile. “Mhmmm,” he hummed in response, raising a hand to Elias’s eyelids in an attempt to shut them, “we sleep now.”

“Okay,” Elias giggled, “we sleep now, just a little longer.”

January 11, 2016 1:20 pm, EST

Elias woke to find Lark gone. Where was he? He rolled to sit up in the bed and checked his phone. 1:20 pm. Of course it was. With a stretch and a hearty yawn, he began to work on getting to his feet and looked around. The room was empty, the shower wasn’t going either, then he saw a shadow through the blinds leading out onto the small balcony of their room.

He opened the blinds to find Lark sitting in a wicker chair, sipping tea, gazing out over the water in placid solitude. There was a bottle of champagne and a pitcher of orange juice sitting on the table next to him, along with two champagne flutes and a bouquet of roses resting in a faceted crystal vase. Elias smiled to himself and slid open the glass door onto the balcony, coming up behind Lark who turned his head slightly towards him. 

“Good morning, sleepyhead.” Lark said, seemingly completely unaware of the irony.

“It’s nearly 1:30.”

The other shrugged, “Morning is a state of mind.”

“Okay,” Elias laughed, draping his arms around Lark’s shoulders, and kissing the top of his head, “what’s all this?” He pointed at the set up on the table, to which Lark rose from his seat, came around to hug him tight, and laid a tender kiss on his lips. 

He smiled, then turned to pour two mimosas, “Happy Anniversary,” he said, holding out a glass to Elias. 

They clinked glasses and sat on the balcony, sipping their drinks, enjoying that serene silence they could only take true comfort in with one another. Every once in a while Elias would glance over at Lark’s satisfied face, the view of the ocean sparkling in his bright eyes. It didn’t matter where they were, Elias knew, but this was perfect. He wondered if he shouldn’t just pop the question right now, but the ring stayed in his pocket, waiting for a moment more perfect than this one. 

January 11, 2016 5:30 pm, EST

Elias hopped and shimmied as he pulled on his slim fit black slacks and tucked his stark white button up into them. He sifted through his bag and spread out the various necktie options he’d brought with him — plain black, floral, black and blue stripes, matte and satin striped maroon, black bowtie with subtle gold stars. A muffled sound of happy singing came from beneath the hiss of the running shower in the background. Elias looked back toward the bathroom and smiled, then turned to eye the bowtie lying on the bed. He was no good at tying bowties, Lark would have to help him, which made it the obvious choice in accessory. 

“Lark! Hurry up, our reservation’s at 6:00.” 

The singing stopped, “What’s that?” Lark called from the bathroom.

“I said... move your butt!” he called back.

“It’s always moving, love!”

“You know what I mean.” 

“Alright, alright, I’ll be out in a minute.” 

The shower went on for a little longer, then the hissing became a light trickle and, soon enough, a thick fog of steam rolled out of the bathroom door, orange light dissipated through the clouds. Lark strolled out, towel tied around his waist, drops of water hanging from the ends of his hair and glistening on his shoulders. He eyed Elias with the untied tie around his neck. A pleased laugh escaped his lips as he inched toward Elias and tugged at the ends of the bowtie, pulling him in for a kiss.

“Did you pick this tie just so I’d help you with it?” Lark asked.

Elias shrugged, “Maybe I did, you don’t know me.”

“No, of course I don’t.” Lark smirked and gently traced the side of Elias’s face with his fingertips, taking a moment to savor the sight of him. Eight years in and seeing Lark look at him like this still made Elias’s heart race.

“We have to get a move on,” Elias muttered, breathlessly. 

Lark cleared his throat, coming back to earth, and brought his hand back down to the tie. “Right,” he said matter-of-factly, then started on the tie. He worked the ends over and under, focus woven into his furrowed brow. Elias glanced down to watch his hands move then glanced back up at him. “There,” Lark fluffed the bowtie proudly when he had finished and met Elias’s gaze again.  

“I love you.” Elias reminded him for the millionth time and pulled him down to meet his lips, running his hands through Lark’s wet hair. 

Lark responded in kind, wrapping his long wingspan tight around Elias’s waist, “I love you too,” he whispered into Elias’s lips.

“I know,” Elias said and patted Lark’s chest as they pulled apart, “Now get dressed, we have like fifteen minutes.”

January 11, 2016 8:00 pm, EST

Elias and Lark walked hand in hand across the top deck of the ship, stomachs full, hearts warm, and heads perhaps a bit too light from a day full of champagne. Above them hung a cloudless, black blanket of sky encrusted with brightly shimmering, diamond stars and the thin sliver of a waxing crescent moon. Not far from them, a band played a harmonious violin cover of “You Are The Reason” with soft percussion accentuating the background. 

Lark pulled away, still holding onto Elias’s hand at arm's length, “Dance with me?” he asked.

Elias looked around the deck at the other families and couples enjoying the night around them, “There’s so many other people.” 

“So what?”

“They might be watching us.”

“Then we’d better put on a good show for them, don’t you think?” Lark smiled, pulling him back in and holding him close. 

Elias sighed, but a blush pulled the corners of his mouth into a coy smile. He wrapped his arms around Lark’s neck and leaned into him as they spun around the deck. Holding each other like this felt equal parts due to the desire to be close to one another and the necessity to help one another remain standing. The more they danced the more the effects of the day’s drinks took their toll and it wasn’t long until they had to slow to a stop. 

“Getting a little dizzy?” Elias laughed.

“Just a little,” Lark agreed. Then his face got serious and he pulled Elias with him towards the railing of the ship to look out over the water, shimmering under the stars. 

“I don’t want this night to end,” he said as they walked.

“Neither do I…” a pause settled between them. 

“Lark—” / “Elias—” They both spoke the other’s names in unison, followed by another unison, “sorry.” Then Elias spoke alone, “You go first.”

“Oh, uh,” Lark began, thrusting his hands into his pockets. He seemed to be fidgety all of a sudden, “Well, Elias… I know you know how much I love you, but I just wanted to say… before I met you…” Was this going where Elias thought? Had they really had the same idea at the same time? Well, he’d be damned if Lark was going to upstage his proposal. He gave a knowing smirk and stepped forward towards the other, “Lark…” but suddenly… time seemed to slow.

January 11, 2016 8:15:28 pm, EST

“… sorry.” Lark squinted and shook his head slightly, slow blinking.

January 11, 2016 8:15:30 pm, EST

Lark’s knee gave out on him and he stumbled back a bit.

January 11, 2016 8:15:32 pm, EST

Elias noticed the railing behind him fell just below Lark’s hip level. His eyes widened and he reached out to him.

January 11, 2016 8:15:33 pm, EST

The railing of the ship caught the back of Lark’s thigh.

January 11, 2016 8:15:34 pm, EST

“LARK!” 

January 11, 2016 1:15:28 - 1:15:34 am, GMT

Katie slept fitfully, alone in her small, twin bed, nestled in her small, one bedroom, Hampstead flat. In her dream, a flock of seagulls surrounded a small brown bird with a yellow face, a white underside, and black accent marks across it’s chest, under its eyes and in the tufts that sat upon its head. The small bird desperately flapped its wings to stay in the air, but the gulls, ten times its size, flapped their wings with all the more force down upon it.

January 11, 2016 8:15:35 pm, EST

Lark flipped over the railing, tumbling down towards the frigid waters below. A small crowd on the deck gasped as they bore witness. Elias ran to the railing and climbed readying himself to jump in after, but, just as he was about to take the leap a couple bystanders stopped him. 

January 11, 2016 1:15:35 am, GMT

Katie sprung up in her bed and screamed, cold sweat running down her face. An indescribable feeling of unbearable loss hit her core and ricocheted through her body.

January 11, 2016 8:15:36 pm, EST

The two bystanders held Elias tight, while others ran to find crew members that could help. “NO!” Elias screamed, “LET GO OF ME! LARK!” His body, completely sober now, shook with shock and tears cascaded from his eyes. “LET GO OF ME, GODDAMMIT!” He struggled against the ones holding him, finally breaking free and running back to the railing. His eyes scanned the water, desperately searching for signs of Lark, but couldn’t make out even the slightest shadow of a body. “LARK!” He called out. “LARK!” His knees buckled and he collapsed against the railing. “HELP HIM! SOMEBODY! Do something!” His forehead pressed hard against the bars, as his voice gave out, cracking a helpless, “please…” the bustle of crew members rushing to help Lark echoed from lower decks.

“Please… Lark… help him… somebody… bring him back…” It was impossible to see through the blinding film of tears rippling across his eyes, “please… I can’t… please don’t let him be gone… I can’t… I can’t… please… I can’t… somebody… Lark… I love you… please… I can’t.” 

January 11, 2016 1:15:36 am, GMT

On the other side of the world, Katie sat alone in her bed and heaved untamable sobs for reasons wholly unknown, save for the fact that it felt like something had reached into the deep recesses of her soul and snapped her still-beating heart in half, leaving the memory of it lingering like a phantom limb. 

January 11, 2016 1:30 am, GMT

A high tinnitus whine made its home in her ears, as she tried to process what she was feeling. Then the phone rang.

[burgerpocalypse]

Back 4 Blood Beta

It's not good. I don't recommend buying or playing this game. Avoid it. If you like it, you're actually wrong.

I'll be directly comparing Back 4 Blood to Left 4 Dead because it's the same development team (supposedly). I'm also in an especially unforgiving mood, so this will be an outwardly hostile discussion of this terrible product. If you think I'm just being overly negative and want the game to fail because I'm an asshole, well, yeah, I am, but this shoddy product deserves considerable ire and I won't be convinced otherwise.

Some publications and individuals are calling it good, a worthy successor to L4D. They're wrong. L4D was a charming, polished, streamlined game. B4B is passionless, janky, and complicated. It makes mistakes that L4D solved or cleverly avoided, and introduces critical issues that ruin the experience.

Game Feel

Shooting feels weak and unresponsive, slows your movement speed, and requires aim-down-sights to have any accuracy.

Basic movement is slow and plodding. Sprinting drains stamina almost instantly, and is barely faster

Melee attacks rapidly drains stamina and has dubious reach; shoving enemies provides almost no benefit unless you have a specific perk card.

Zombies (or Ridden, a terrible, thoughtless name for zombies) shumble at you like they're competing for the Jank Olympics. One zombie can drain your health bar in seconds through sheer jankitude.

Players will regularly be yeeted, and it will seem like you just experienced an unintended bug or glitch rather than a deliberate force.

You're constantly taking damage from random, unidentifiable sources.

In summary, the game feel of this particular game is woeful.

Characters and Monsters

I hate the player characters. Well, that's a lie. HG, the prepper guy, or whatever his name is, is the only one I don't hate. He doesn't say cringeworthy lines, and he has a definable personality beyond broad emotional traits or bog-standard tropes. Player animations are also jank

The Ridden, which I will reiterate are named terribly, are indistinguishable from each other, players, and the environment. The common zombies are of the same color and height as players, so you're gonna probably be shooting teammates a lot, especially when everyone's covered in blood effects. Special zombies are awfully designed, to the point that I have to complain about them for the rest of this section. They:

are unpredictable, in a bad way

have entirely too much health with easily missed weak points

do far too much damage from unreasonable distances

move faster than the player's default speed, and can charge for extended distances

often appear in multiples and crowd chokepoints

The Hocker operates like the Smoker from L4D, but can lock down multiple players at once, chunk your health from great distances, and repeatedly jump from vantage point to vantage point at random. Its name is also stupid.

The Snitcher calls more zombies if you shoot it, which isn't obvious at all until you end up shooting it and call more zombies. It's also a key mistake that the developers of L4D avoided through rigorous playtesting, which allowed them to see that a similarly designed enemy was completely unfair, resulting in it being cut from the final release. Its name is also stupid.

The big fat guy can douse you in health-draining bile from 50 meters away, is difficult to kill, and has a variant that charge you and explode. This like they took the Boomer and made it worse in uniquely awful ways, just to see if they could. I don't remember the name, but its probably stupid.

The big arm guy can thwack you for 50% of your health bar, pin you in place, is also difficult to kill, and has a variant that is even more difficult to kill. I don't remember his name either, bu its definitely stupid.

The final one I can remember is the one that sits in a flesh pod and ambushes a player that gets too close, pinning them exactly like the Hunter would. The flesh pod blends into the environment in an especially egregious way, and the enemy itself looks stupid. Its names is also probably stupid.

Difficulty

I've cut my teeth on L4D and other coop shooters. I've beaten all the official campaigns on Expert. This game is stupid hard and unforgiving to such a degree that I fully believe that the developers do not understand at all what made L4D fun.

As players lose health, they also accrue trauma, which reduces maximum HP, potentially down to 40 HP. This cannot be recovered, even after respawning at a safe room or midround, unless you find a special medicine locker, which costs copper to use.

Levels are far too long, and there is never, ever any room to breathe. Players are constantly assaulted by zombies from all angles with no sense of rhythm or dramatic tension.

Levels also have no flow. Players will feel as though they are randomly wandering with no sense that they are being led in a particular direction. In L4D, the player characters would constantly be making observations about the environment (i.e. "Up that ladder!" or "We can use X to get across"). While L4D used tooltips to point out important objects, B4B relies entirely upon them.

Players have an elaborate inventory and currency system that is confusing and unreliable. Instead of providing healing and ammo at the start of each level, players have to buy it with copper. Like, literal in-game microtransactions. Each player has a unique wallet, though any copper picked up is given to all players equally. The copper system is an unnecessary addition that serves to slow down the start of a round.

Players can hold one offensive, healing, and support item. Medkits are not given a specific item slot, but instead compete with bandages and pills for inventory space. Guns and melee weapons also have tiers and ranks that are ill-defined. I have an extensive list of gripes I could go on about with this system, but I'll list some key issues:

There are too many items of each type, and they are too plentiful in the environment to be worth spending copper on

Ammo is broken into 4 types, which can leave you with lots of ammo for a weapon type you aren't using and no ammo for the gun you're actually using

Weapon attachments and ammo upgrades do nothing but provide confusion and force you to stop and stare at a stat screen to understand what it is you're adding to your gun. You also can't transfer them between guns, so you'll eventually have to swap a lower-tier gun with great attachments for a higher-tier gun with no attachments

Some offensive items do not behave in the way you expect them to, or provide so little value that they aren't worth using

Bandages and medkits operate identically, offering no interesting decision-making opportunities

The efficacy of healing items in general is needlessly reduced by players being able to heal by killing enemies, as well as trauma reducing max HP to the point that they don't provide any value

The Legacy of Left 4 Dead

Left 4 Dead provided a tightly packaged experience that nearly anyone could pick up on, and has a satisfying core loop that kept me coming back for years in spite of its many obvious glaring flaws. It was not bogged down by unnecessary progression systems or overly complex mechanics.

Since Valve allowed the series to shrivel and die, there has been no refinement of the mechanics that give L4D its magic, only inferior imitations that do not understand why things were they way they were.

Warhammer: Vermintide fails by being too complex, with vast differences between player characters, and an awful gear system that locks players out of higher difficulties with an arbitrary power system and random lootboxes

PAYDAY has zero polish, an unfathomably dull progression system, uninspired characters, awful artificial difficulty, and generally wastes the player's time with crushing amounts of busy work and waiting around

Back 4 Blood could have been great, but it completely misses the point. I'm going to try and play more of it while the beta is open, since I'm a miserable masochist, but also because some small part of me still wants to like it.

I'm sorry that this was so long and uncoordinated. I also apologize if you do enjoy the game. I just hope that I was able to provide a unique perspective of some small value to someone.

Thanks for reading. Sorry there's no interesting art to look at. I only put that comically small cover image there because it made me feel slightly better.

[fire-mage-719]

DOOM 2016 vs DOOM Eternal

Yeah, I get it, I’m late to the party. How long as Eternal been out? And I literally just finished it? Which isn’t even to mention how I didn’t even GET Eternal until long after it had come out. But early into playing Eternal I wanted to make a 2016 vs Eternal comparison. It has been a while since I’ve played 2016, but I’ve played through it at least, like, three times so hopefully my memory stands as I write this critique of the two games. 

Now first off, neither are bad games. You’re a fool to think either one would be so. Both are MARVELS in gameplay and entertainment factor. Honestly, if I was stuck with one game for the rest of time, it would probably be one of these two. Well, I also like other properties mostly licensed or owned by Nintendo, so it would be a tough battle, but they’re up there. DOOM 2016 and Eternal are just really stinking good games. Now personally I can’t really say anything on quality, since I played 2016 on a Switch (which is not renowned for stellar graphics) and Eternal on my computer (a hand-me-down from my father, which I am surprised doesn’t explode every time I touch it... I’m bad with computers and wouldn’t dare to replace the graphics card unless my life depended on it). I just really can’t say anything about graphics, but overall even without 1080 HD resolution and maximum FPS or whatever, the games work well, and play well. The only glitch or error I ever had playing either was in 2016, where on the second level I phased through a floor in the middle of a fight and right into a section with a new gun. I did not complain. 

Now to get to the actual points. DOOM Eternal is an amazing game. I think that they really perfected the combat from 2016 in Eternal. We will miss hand pistol, rip, but they really did the weaponry and fighting well. The flames for armor, glory kills, grenades, THE SWORD MAN, all of them just... amazing. I think the first thing I was just so ecstatic about was the regenerating chainsaw ammo. Because you could always at least get 1 chainsaw ammo (gas? Whatever) back whenever you wanted, it made it so you had to use the chainsaw. Well, the way the game played you NEEDED the chainsaw, but rather, with this mechanic you could use it regularly, and not just try and save it for the annoying enemies. That was a HUGE boost from 2016 that Eternal had.

Another thing Eternal did well was hiding secrets. A staple for DOOM throughout time, and Eternal did a perfect job of hiding them but also making them reasonable to find. They’re cleverly hidden, and the dossier and map show just enough to help you get them. I really like the map in Eternal, I think that the main thing I would want in 2016 is Eternal’s map. And to speak of map and locations: travelling in both 2016 and Eternal is never a chore. The amazing landscapes and designs are just spectacular. Not to mention the fast travel option in Eternal? You can go back and find the secrets you missed which is just... so amazing. Like, I’m no completionist, and I want to complete DOOM.

Now to get to my only quarrel with Eternal: The story flow. 

I love Eternal, but I felt as if the story was somehow... wrong. Oh, the storytelling and lore are great, but I felt as if things were too far apart, non-joined as I played. The flow of place to place felt wrong, or in the very least too fast. In 2016, everything takes place on Mars (or Hell) and everything seems more joined or within reason, rather than just: Oh, I’m on Earth! Now I’m on the Sentinel Planet! And now I’m in a frozen land! Now we’re in Hell! And Hey look there’s Mars! The story is just fine, it all works out, and the worlds we go to follow that story just fine and well, but compared to the storytelling and progression of 2016, it just feels slightly off. Not saying it’s bad, just that I prefer the flow of 2016. But we also got all the cool locations of Eternal, and hey, they’re really stinking awesome. 

My other complaint is that Eternal just sort of... started. We show up on this like... space station? Just chilling outside of the orbit of Earth? Like, how did we get there at the end of 2016? Where did it come from? That was the only real plot thing that sort of bugged me.

The story of Eternal and 2016 can’t really be compared. They’re sort of only comparable to themselves and their own stories. BUT CAN I SAY THAT SAMUEL HAYDEN CAN SCREW RIGHT OFF????? Shut up you stupid sword thief! Stealing MY sword! And then acting all buddy-buddy got to save the world? I do like his character honestly, and I adore the implications he has. Or rather, all the knowledge he has. Like, he gives us some exposition on the places we go to (once we unfortunately have his company) and you have to wonder how the fresh heck he GOT that info. I think I saw a theory that the maykr angel that made Doomguy have the big-bad powers the demons fear (beside his overall ungodly amounts of rage) was also Samuel. Like, something about similarity of names and the disappearance of the angel dude? But the story expansion for eternal shows the angel dude with voice lines that imply they aren’t the same person, so really for now all we have on Sammy boy is he’s a piece of garbage. Who somehow stole the almighty maker of the makyrs. That comment Vega made, “Dr. Hayden, am I the Father?” or whatever, had me shooketh. BUT WHAT HAD ME MORE SHOOKETH IS THAT WE LEFT VEGA BEHIND! Or that like, Samuel just had the almighty maker of the angel people just running his Mars facility? And almost get blown up at the end of 2016? Just wack.

I had other stuff, like how the Unmakyr is super cool, giving us more weapon options. And how the new weapons are cool, and specifics on combat, but we don’t need to go into what we already know: the combat in Eternal rocks. I wanted to talk a bit about upgrades, but I just have to say that I liked the 2016 ones better. They were a bit more customizable, and I just preferred the ways you got them in 2016. 

The last thing I can really say is that the boss battles in Eternal were sort of... sad. In 2016 they were super cool, with interesting mechanics that you really had to figure out and adapt to. The ones in Eternal were like... shoot me enough and just don’t die to the lackeys that spawn and my AOE attacks or maybe like, my fist. The integration from level to boss fight didn’t feel as smooth in Eternal as it did in 2016. Honestly, I just thought the boss battles were sort of boring in Eternal. Like the Doom Marauder was a more difficult fight than the Icon of Sin. They worked well with the combat, but they just were sort of boring. 

I don’t want to go on much longer, but above all I loved Eternal and 2016. Both are amazing games with great combat, are totally fun to fight in and explore, and give us amazing stories and characters. Not you Samuel. I can’t wait for the Eternal story expansion, and I can’t wait to see where the story goes from here.

[smokeybrandreviews]

You’re Beautiful

CD Projeckt Red has overtaken Ubisoft as the most profitable game company in Europe and I absolutely love that sh*t. Red makes games the way they should be made; Narrative first, game play next, micro-transactions an after thought. They took a franchise famous mostly in their homeland, The Witcher, and turned in a trilogy of games that are some of the best to ever be made. There work revitalized popularity with the books, which directly lead to the excellent Netflix series. Thank god for that because, without it, I would know nothing of the ravishing Anya Chalotra. Those games are spectacular and, while there was some DLC content one could purchase, it was proper narrative additions that added hours of game play, not some stupid sword or vanity skin. They added meat to your purchase and were worth the additional cost. The original Witcher trilogy is quietly one of the best in gaming and Red deserves all of the shine for making that licensing deal so long ago. Once that Witcher clout was earned, they turned their attention to another obscure, niche title, for which to give that renaissance touch. An old board game called Cyberpunk 2020 and i live for that sh*t.

If you know me, then you know one of my favorite genres in media is the cyberpunk dystopia. Love all of that sh*t. From Blade Runner to Dark City to Akira and Ghost in the Shell; All of that mechanized existential madness hits my sweet spot just right. The fusion of the artificial and the organic. The man or machine pathos. The intrinsic body horror of having augmentation. The blurred lines between consciousness and computers. All of that makes for a rich playground to grow some incredibly unique narratives. You can imagine when i got the first shots of that gynoid taking a bullet to the cheek, blood all over her cyborg titties, mantis blades fully extended for an acrobatic and visceral bloodening; I lost all of my sh*t. CD Projekt Red is a great studio and prides itself on crafting worlds so i knew this franchise was in good hands. What they’ve shown so far is absolutely breathtaking. From the graphics to the game play, to the customization,this thing looks like a true experience. Never mind the dope ass Keanu cameo, the game, itself, looks fun as sh*t to play and I can't wait to finally get my hands on it.

Ubisoft is kind of a paper tiger in this regard. We're talking about a multi-billion dollar Goliath of a company, being overtaken by an upstart with three, successful, titles under their belt. Assassin’s Creed was a stroke of genius. That was lightning in a bottle. It is little more than a Prince of Persia clone but Ubi owned that IP. They could do as much or as little as they wanted with it and, boy, did the do the most. They chased that yearly release money and ran their most profitable franchise into the ground. Admittedly, they turned a massive profit in the process but it was only a matter of time before that strategy collapsed and it eventually did just that. Before switching to a proper development cycle, Ubi pushed out sh*t upon sh*t for several sequels, glitch filled, unplayable, jokes, bankrupting the goodwill fostered by the early titles of the franchise. It took a two year hiatus and one of the best games in the entire Creed library, Origins, to win back fans. They followed this with the amazing Odyssey; A game I actual purchased myself and I don’t even like Assassin’s Creed. I sure enough love me some Kassandra, though. Also, that horrifyingly gorgeous Sphinx. Like, holy sh*t, man!

Red overtook Ubisoft through sheer quality. They don’t have the library to compete with Ubi on anything near equal footing, but the quality of their product is laughably superior in almost every aspect. With the exception of Odyssey, Origins, and Creed II, modern Ubisoft might as well be sh*tting out shuffleware by comparison. Once upon a time, this wasn’t the case. Once upon a time, Ubisoft was that crazy eccentric, upstart studio, who took risks and were rewarded with staunch supporters and loyal fans. Ubisoft used to be the place to go when you wanted to make a game that no one else gave a second thought. Rayman, Beyond Good and Evil, and even the Prince of Persia trilogy, were all titles that got passed over by other studios for one reason or another. But those crazy Frenchmen saw something in those games and invested in them. They gave them the tools and let those creators do they're thing. That’s CD Projeckt Red’s entire modus operandi. They’re doing Ubisoft better than Ubisoft and it’s very telling. I guess the old adage is true; When you get older, you become the establishment you railed against as a youth. Red should take note and strive to avoid such a disappointing fate but not quite yet. I think they have a few years of being that rebel studio left in the tanks. They, apparently, got the value and cash in the bank, to stay the course at least.

[thewildwaffle]

Abduction - Chapter 26

We’re getting close to the end here people! It’s officially been 2 years since I started writing this and I am so close I can almost taste it! It’s officially been 2 years since I first sat down to write this story. I never would have been able to do this without all the feedback and encouragement I’ve received from posting it. Thank you for the critiques, the ideas, the advice, and the reactions. It’s kept me going!

Also, thanks for being patient while I get this written and edited.

Chapter 1           Previous Chapter             Next Chapter

*** 

Thurrin wanted to pay more attention to the conversation going on in the shuttle, but she had to stay focused. Human Vern was piloting, but she had been put in charge of navigation through the warp. No small task seeing as the Burnti Command fleet had been on the move. They had exited warp and were now following slowly, very far behind the Arum Bloom. Hopefully, Mike and Wenona were still aboard. Or at least, Thurrin thought, why wouldn’t they be?

“Oh my gosh, is that it? It’s freakin’ huge!” Kylee leaned forward, marveling at the screen. It was big. Even from this far away. There was no atmosphere or obstacle of any kind to block their view of the ship. If they continued at their current pace, it would take a few solar cycles to reach the Arum Bloom, even if it was at a stand-still. Thankfully, the distance coupled with their ship’s small size would keep them “under the radar” as the humans said.

Human Vern turned and pushed Kylee back out of his space to her chair. “How can you say that’s huge after having been on the Rock Base?”

“Okay, that’s on a completely different level. That’s like comparing a mouse to a bear. The bear is huge, but I can still look at a mouse and say, ‘wow, that’s a big mouse.’”

For the first time in what felt like forever, Thurrin felt she could take her eyes off her controls long enough to look back at Kylee. “I assume those are Earth creatures?”

“Yeah, they are. Bears are the largest land predators back home. Mice are small rodents that…” She paused. A slow smile spread across her face. “Well hey, I actually think you’d be really interested in mice, Thurrin.”

Thurrin glanced again at her instruments to make sure nothing had changed. “To be honest, I’d be really interested in anything about Earth. I think I’d like to visit someday.”

“Well hey, we get out of this alive, you’re more than welcome to come to crash it at my place if you’d like.”

“If we survive… yeah.” Thurrin’s tail drooped. The humans seemed pretty nonplussed at the idea of maybe dying. She herself knew it was a possible outcome. And on top of that, even if they did survive… “I might have to visit. Might not be welcome back on Bernor after… after we get done with this.”

“Hey, guys,” Human Vern interrupted, “we can make plans later, we’ve got movement.”

“They haven’t found us out, have they? I thought Booka Vern’s signal dampener was supposed to keep us hidden!”

Thurrin checked the readout of Booka Vern’s device. “It is! It is, it’s working, or it should be. I can’t exactly go outside and check!”

“What kind of weapons does this thing have?” Kylee stood up, ready for action.

Vern checked. “Uh, I think just a few small balinton blasters.”

“That’s it?!”

“This is a shuttle, not a battlecruiser!”

“Wait, hold on,” Demfar spoke up for the first time in a while, “I don’t think they’re coming after us, look!”

All eyes locked onto the small vessel in question. Sure enough, it was headed in their direction, but it didn’t seem to be coming straight at them. No one spoke, almost as if their silence would help keep them from being detected. It was some sort of small transporter. Or perhaps a mechanic’s hopper? What was it doing out here alone?

“We should hail it,” Vern whispered, already entering the commands to the computer to hail it.

“We should wha- are you completely out of your mind?!” Kylee whispered back.

Thurrin stared at the screen in front of her. Vern was searching for a compatible frequency that would an audio message without giving away their location. She looked out towards the oncoming ship. They were really booking it out of there. What were they doing all the way out here, so far away from their ship?

“They’re obviously not coming for us.” Vern selected a frequency and was preparing the ship’s communication commands. “I want to know what they’re doing out here.”

“Have you ever heard of the phrase ‘curiosity killed the cat?’” Kylee hissed quietly.

Thurrin’s ears perked. She knew what a cat was. Mike had told her about them and Wenona had drawn a few pictures of them. She had to say, they did look a lot like Booka. She didn’t understand why Kylee was bringing them up now though. “Why would you kill a cat?”

“It’s just a figure of speech,” Kylee sighed, “Meaning being curious is going to risk us all getting found out and ruining the entire mission, Vern!”

She tried grabbing at Vern’s hands to stop him, but he pushed her arms away with one hand and continued entering the commands with the other.

“Look at it. Something’s up. We need to know what’s going on before we go in,” Vern’s hands were big, but the final command needed input from the console from two separate keys at once. Thurrin looked between the console, the ship headed towards them, and  Vern. He was right. That ship had no business being this far from the main fleet. Something was going on, and it was best if they knew as much as they could before continuing with the mission.

Vern was struggling to reach the final key while still holding down the other. Before Kylee could stop her, Thurrin reached over and hit it. The communication programs were set and the frequency went out.

“You two are going to get us all killed,” Kylee huffed.

“We’ll be fine,” Vern sighed. “We’re still shielded. If they mean us any ill, we just stay hidden and continue on our way. Maybe even with a bit of insight as to what to expect here on out.”

Kylee grunted and sat back down, arms folded tightly across her chest. “Maybe next time we could vote on it before you go making stupid decisions.”

“Maybe next time.”

For a while, no one spoke. No one even moved. The ship got closer After what felt like a small eternity, a voice hesitantly peeped from the speakers.

“Uh, hello?” a wheezy voice broke the silence.

“What are you doing?” Hissed another voice quietly. It sounded like the speaker was standing away from the microphone. “We are running for our lives and you answer the weird signal?

“It’s not a Burnti signal,” the first voice said back. “You’re not Burnti, are you?” A pause. “Hello? Is anyone there?”

Vern looked around at the group before answering, “Hello, yes we’re here. You probably can’t see us, we’re cloaked, but we’re from the Galacti-”

“Hello? Hey, sorry,” the first voice interrupted, “I can’t hear you very well, could you speak up?”

Looking down at the console, Thurrin found a tuning dial. She carefully moved it a notch and leaned into the mic. “Yes, sorry, we can hear you just fine. We’re honing the signal, it should be better now, but there may still be interference between our operating systems. Uh… can you hear me now?”

There was a bit of inarticulate grumbling noises from the speaker for a moment. “Yes, we can hear you. Did you say ‘we’? Who are you? What are you doing here?”

“We- well, we are from the Galactic Confederation.” Which was true, even if this little trip of theirs wasn’t sanctioned by the Galactic Confederation.

“By all things bright and shining! This is Mahben Glaykur of the ESS Sicatna. My companion and I were prisoners on the Burnti ship, Arum Bloom. There was a breakout or a glitch or something in the cell doors where we were being held in and we escaped and stole this hopper.”

Everyone on both ships let out a deep sigh which turned into relieved laughter. 

“We can’t tell you how happy we are to hear you!” Mahben Glaykur continued, “Where are you? Are you the scouting party? Are there more ships coming?”

Thurrin looked over to Human Vern who stared back, his mouth straightened to form a straight line.

Thurrin paused. Her stomach tied itself in knots. The Burnti had prisoners besides the humans. How did she tell them that they weren’t here for them? How did you tell someone they’d been left behind? “There aren’t any other ships coming. It’s just us. For now. A, uh, covert mission of sorts.”

Behind her, Kylee made a short exhaling sound. “A very covert mission,” she mumbled under her breath.

There was a long silence from the other ship. They were almost close enough to see the markings on the side of the vessel. It was a small cargo ship, probably one that would carry specialized equipment and electronics. She wasn’t sure if it would have a warp drive aboard or not.

Once the silence was starting to become unbearable, Thurrin activated the comm device again. “Mahben Glaykur, how many escaped with you?” There was no response. “How many from the Galactic Confederation are still aboard the Arum Bloom?” She tried again.

The speakers clicked as if the other ship had activated their comms, but it took another quarter of a moortik before they heard the Mahben finally respond. “Unknown. I’m sorry, I… I know there are others. I don’t know if they made it out. It’s… it’s just the two of us here. There was a third, but he stayed behind to find his companions, the two humans.”

Thurrin’s tail twitched. Someone else was trying to save Mike and Wenona? Her brain tried to process what she’d heard.

“Mahben Glaykur, do you know who that was? Who was it that stayed?” Thurrin felt Demfar rest a tentacle on her shoulder. She looked up at his large eyes. As a medic, he was all too well aware of those who had been lost during the Battle of the Blockade. They both turned to look eagerly at the speaker for the answer.

“He was a sefra. Jebannuck Sefra. We tried to tell him it was a suicide mission, but he said he was pack-bonded with the humans. I’m sorry, we had to leave him, there wasn’t time. I wish we could have helped him, or found others to bring with us, but we barely made just ourselves.”

Thurrin wasn’t really listening anymore. She felt her fur ripple across her body. It felt both freezing cold and blazing hot at the same time. Her mind was about in the same state. She suddenly felt exhausted and hyperactive all at once. She wanted to cry and laugh. And she did. A bit of steam actually rose from the tears that fell into her fur.

Jebannuck was alive!

Demfar sighed deeply, which turned into a chuckle and grew to a full laugh. Squifra aren’t very loud creatures in pretty much anything they do, laughter being no exception, but the broken exhales and low clacking noises were the most Thurrin thought she’d ever heard one laugh before.

It would take a while to calm down - for either of them. And they still had a mission to do. Thurrin rose to her hind feet, having to balance herself for a moment before jumping down to let Kylee take her spot. They could figure out the specifics of their next step - getting aboard the Arum Bloom.

Where Jebannuck was. Where Mike was. Where Wenona was. All safe. All still alive!

Well, she paused, her giddy high dropped like a claw to the gut, she hoped they were all still alive. The humans might be safe for now, but he certainly wasn’t. Jebannuck should have just come with these two escapees. He should have. But she understood the reason why he didn’t. It was the same reason she was here now.

She took a moment to try to calm herself. She was here, and here was a dangerous situation. Jebannuck’s presence changed things, for good or bad - well that was easy, it was good. Oh, it was so good! It was more a matter of would this make things harder or easier?

 Humans Vern and Kylee were trying to get as much information from Mahben Glaykur as they could. It turned out that the other escapee aboard the ship was a relegated Burnti officer who had insights that would help them immensely. Their little hopper of a ship didn’t have a warp drive, but it did have some hyperspeed capabilities. They could probably make it out of the system alright. They could make it to secured Confederation space within half a partec if they were careful and didn’t get caught first.

It was helping with that last part that pulled Thurrin back into full-on mission-mode. The escapees had made it pretty far from the Burnti command ship, but there would be other ships scrambled to intercept them if there hadn’t been already. Stopping to talk with Thurrin and crew certainly put a damper on the lead they had going. Their hyperdrive was still coming online. They wouldn’t be able to get to hyperspeed before the Burnti arrived. 

Not unless some other small, mysterious ship just happened to disengage their signal dampener, and seemingly pop into existence to provide a distraction long enough for them to get away.

Thurrin’s tail twitched back and forth nervously. Their ship only had the balinton blasters. Not enough to fight off multiple enemy ships for long. But they wouldn’t be doing that. One, that would be death. Two, Human Vern and Kylee planned on getting captured. If they surrendered after what looked like a sufficient-enough struggle, they would be delivered right to the Arum Bloom.

Thurrin didn’t really like the plan. It was crazy. It was dangerous. All of this was. But it was the humans’ plan, and from the stories she’d heard and Thurrin’s own experience, those usually seemed to be the ones that got the best results. Thurrin looked around at her group. Demfar and the humans. She could think of no better group to help her get her friends back.

Next

[vagrantblvrd]

Sky Factory Android Shenanigans is giving me so many ideas?

That super cliché sci-fi AU where Michael’s an android on the run (because reasons???) and he ends up on one backwater planet/colony somewhere. Parts on the fritz thanks to a run in with some black ops/assassination squad and he needs repairs but doesn’t know who to trust?

Broadcasts reporting him as, idk, malfunctioning and the whatnot and a danger to the public – do not approach or engage – and call the authorities if you see this unit.

(Unit, like he’s not a person anymore, had his autonomy stripped away along with his humanity and goddamn him for being stupid enough to trust whatever organization he signed up for that got him killed, turned him into this and fucked him over again with all the secrets it was keeping he hadn’t even guessed at before stumbling on them, hence the android on the run part of things? But yes.)

And then he overhears someone talking about this lunatic living on the fringes of whatever settlement he’s come to. Like something out of the true crime stories he used to follow when he was a kid – or is that just another implanted memory?

Shady as hell and rife with con-men and thieves and worse, perfect place to hide out for a while until his stupid body shuts down and he dies for real out here.

Half-blind most days because that shot to the head and it acts up at the worst times. Almost gets him killed a few times when some of those thieves and worse ambush him in an alley and it’s sheer luck he manages to get out of it without suffering more damage.

Anyway, anyway, he hears about this lunatic who’s supposed to be some kind of mechanical genius, right? Doesn’t run a real shop, lives out by the main scrapyard like a weirdo. People bring their busted machines and gadgets and the whatnots to him and he fixes them up nice and pretty-ish. (Cheaper than the officially licensed technicians near the spaceport and a hell of a lot more discreet to boot.)

So.

Michael makes his way there, half-convinced he’s walking into a trap but it’s take that risk or end up being a pile of spare parts in the guy’s scrapyard anyway, right?

And at first the asshole doesn’t even respond when Michael knocks on his door, pretends he’s not home or whatever and Michael’s just.

At the end of his rope and angry and defeated and he starts yelling at the fucker until his vocalizer glitches out, and that’s when the door snaps open, sending Michael tumbling inside where he lands on his face because his everything is fucked up and he doesn’t react fast enough.

Looks up to see someone staring down at him, implants and augments like whoa because no human has an eye that glows red unless it’s in one of those old horror holovids.

“What do you want?

Surly bastard, which lines up with the things Michael overheard before.

Loner who doesn’t really gt left alone because people need things, don’t they, and there’s not a lot of  money coming into a place like this. Old mining planet/colony where the companies pulled their operations out when the mines ran dry and only the worst kind of people come by anymore.

The few decent people left behind too poor to relocate, so it’s a shitshow and as someone with the skills to he has he gets visitors more often than he’d care for. (Customers or someone hoping to take what he has any way they have to, which explains the weapon in his hand and Michael’s almost to point he’d just let the fucker shoot him to be done with it, but.)

He stands up, servos and whatever else he’s made of these days creaking and groaning and this little flash of light that may be actual sparks coming off him and he sees the guy’s grimace at how bad off he is.

Like Jesus, if he wasn’t what he was Michael knows someone would have scrapped him a few planets back, but whatever.

The guy – Ryan, of course it’s Ryan – flips the lights on and they get a good look at one another.

Michael’s headed for a full-system shutdown and Ryan?

Looks like he’s been through some shit. Enough augments and implants that the legal system would be hard-put classifying him as human anymore, leaning past cyborg and dangerously close to being an android himself like some of those soldiers Michael’s seen who got caught up in the outer worlds skirmishes a few years back.

A lot of them look cobbled together from whatever parts he could find out here, which makes sense if the guy’s here of all places. (People don’t end up somewhere like here if they have resources to call on, you know? And no one ends up somewhere like here if they’re not in some kind of trouble, so. Yeah.)

They regard each for a long, long time.

Michael knows Ryan recognizes him, but he’s too tired to bother running – been doing too much of that as it is – and he wouldn’t get far in the shape he’s in if he tried

Last resort and the way that goes and Ryan sighs, gesturing for Michael to follow him and he does because what else is he going to do?

Ryan fixes him up, this long on-going process that takes a long damn time because Michael’s so busted up. Has this little helper bot he’s built out of old construction bots or something because its still sporting that distinct yellow paint job, little black and white stripe along its side.

Beeps and chirps and boops whenever Ryan asks it to bring him this tool or that, dig through the bins along one wall for parts or whatever. Hovers along just behind him when they’re not in the workshop/lab loyal little helper and kind of cute in a weird kind of way.

Ryan calls it E.D.G.A.R. and when Michael asks what the acronym stands for Ryan shrugs because hell if he knows, he just thought it was appropriate, which what does that even mean???

Ryan and E.D.G.A.R. dig through the bits and pieces he has stashed in his workshop/lab/lab, cannibalize worker androids – makes and models who didn’t start out as humans like Michael did – for some of it. Searches through the scrapyard to find parts he can modify for the rest.

Once he gets Michael functioning to a high enough level he can lend a hand Michael’s out there too, digging through piles of appliances and machinery and trying not to look too hard at the scattered android parts and chassis tossed in there too. (Some look too human, synthetic flesh torn and weathered from being unprotected from the elements for who know how long)

They don’t really get friendly, the two of them, but Ryan forgets to play the curmudgeon the longer he works at fixing Michael up.

Doesn’t ask who Michael is or how he ended up here, doesn’t seem like he’s waiting on the authorities to come claim him either.

Kind of a confusing time for them both because it’s clear Ryan’s got his own secrets, you know?

More than just some guy who picked up what he knows ‘along the way’, no.

There’s an order to his workshop/lab/lab Michael recognizes from the days right after those fuckers turned him into a machine, the way he works.

Meticulous as hell and so precise and just. More care than any of the hacks Michael’s gone to since he’s been on the run.

And then!

And then there’s – Michael doesn’t know when the shift happens but he bitches about something and Ryan laughs, quiet little huff of air and this tell-tale quirk to his mouth, and he gives Michael this. This look.

Something thoughtful to it he doesn’t really understand, can’t fucking compute, but who cares, right? Because Ryan’s less of a bastard after that, they get along better and Michael stops worrying Ryan’s just waiting for the right moment to turn him in, thinks his luck might be changing on him – so of course that’s when things go to shit.

Someone must have seen Michael before, recognized him and figured out he went to Ryan for help because the people chasing Michael?

They find him.

Assassination squad(s) and both of them unprepared for it and Ryan gets hit, gets hit bad.

More machine than man, but there’s still enough squishy human left to him that a bullet/energy weapon shot in the right place will kill him, you know? (Besides, all those augments and implants are hooked up to his squishy human parts in amazingly delicate ways and it’s real fucking easy to use that against someone if you know how.)

Michael doesn’t get away unscathed himself, but of the two of them he’s far more functional. And even though Ryan didn’t have the right parts and components to bring him up to factory specs again, so to speak, he did a damn good job with what he had on hand, you know?

There’s also the fact that the people who made Michael what he is now didn’t expect him to turn on them, thought they had a nice loyal dog in their hands and they made a mistake giving him the teeth and claws they did. All these built-in weapons because he’s a prototype, isn’t he.

New war machine to sell to the highest bidder and better than all those soulless robots people were using before because there’s a human mind in there capable of making the kind of decisions and choices and whatever else a simple computer program or AI could ever hope to. (Real fucking close to the complex sort of AI they’d need for that, but not close enough to satisfy the corporations or military forces who would commission them.)

So.

Michael gets them out of there, follows E.D.G.A.R. to this ship Ryan’s got hidden away – looks like shit but Ryan – stubbornly hanging on – insists it’ll get them to safety, just don’t fly them into the sun or a fucking planet, for Christ’s sake.

Michael gets Ryan into the medbay which – surprise, surprise – looks like a smaller version of Ryan’s workshop/lab/ than a medbay, but who cares at this point.

Hooks him up to machines to keep him alive until he can give him proper medical care and gets them away from any pursuers.

When he goes back down to check on Ryan it’s to find the asshole directing E.D.G.A.R. to open up this   pod on the wall. (Looks more like a casket.)

Human shaped and something about it unsettles Michael who demands to know what’s going on, because Ryan shouldn’t be doing what’s he’s doing.

Seriously injured and lost a lot of blood and any normal human would be dead by this point, and Ryan.

He sighs, gives Michael this look because they both know he’s not going to get better from his injuries, you know? Squishy human parts all fucked up and augments and implants malfunctioning worse than Michael had been when he went to Ryan.

Only a matter of time and Ryan knew something like this would happen one day – all the things Michael was careful not to ask Ryan the same way Ryan didn’t ask Michael because secrets. (And Plot Reasons, but c’mon, you know how this works by now.)

E.D.G.A.R. cracks the pod/casket open and oh, wow, surprise, surprise there’s an android body inside it.

Looks a hell of a lot like Michael’s, but this one is a little bigger, bulkier. Looks like an older version, one that was modeled more after the construction androids, used for heavy labor and the whatnot. No synthetic flesh cover its frame, all powered down and waiting and -

“Don’t do this,” Michael says, because Ryan thinks he knows what he’s doing but he doesn’t.

He doesn’t.

(Michael doesn’t know what else they can do, but this - there has to be another way.)

Ryan gives Michael this sad little smile and it’s horrifying because internal bleeding and everything else, and he’s just.

“Michael,” he says, and he sounds so tired. “Why do you think I knew how to repair you?”

Because Ryan didn’t end up in some backwater planet/colony by accident, you know?

Doesn’t know the things he does because he read about it somewhere or had a job working in a goddamned repair shop on one of the inner worlds.

None of those easy little lies Michael kept telling himself, no.

Ryan used to work for this corporation, big on advancing science and all that bullshit that had major funding provided by the military and so on and so forth. People real interested in cutting down on human bloodshed and what better way than to create machines to do it for them?

Things went wrong along the way, and they got desperate as project after project failed to live up to expectation. (Some key component missing and it wasn’t until someone decided morals and ethics were oh so troublesome they made any real headway.)

People like Michael and accidents here and there, soldiers offer a second chance and there’s an experimental program that hasn’t been revealed to the public. Dangerous, of course, but -

Some people got a choice in the matter, sold their souls for that second chance. Others like Michael never had that luxury.

And Ryan, oh. He was part of that, wasn’t he.

Designed the androids because the science of it all, but he never expected things would lead where they did.

Got to watch as his creations were used in the worst possible ways, saw the early days where human brains couldn’t cope with the transfer progress. Breadth and depth of what makes a human mind (soul?) shoved into a computerized/cybernetic shell of its former self, most without warning and the fallout -

Most committed suicide, some went mad. The others had to be destroyed as they decayed.

And Ryan.

He tried to expose them, did what he could and it almost, almost worked.

But one man against a vast conglomeration fueled by greed and corruption and it almost killed him. (Should have, maybe that would have been better.)

He had a handful of augments and implants before everything went to hell to help him in his work, but afterward.

Well.

Squishy human bodies are just that, aren’t they. Get injured so badly they can’t be fixed and he ended up needing more and more until he might as well have been one of those androids he created once upon a time. (Poetic justice to it, or so he thought when he bothered to think about it at all.)

And anyway, anyway, that doesn’t matter at this point because it’s either transfer his squishy human brain-stuff into the waiting android frame or die.

Before all this, before Michael, Ryan might have chosen death. Figured it’s what he deserved for his part in things, no way he can expose the people responsible when he’s failed before, but.

Michael makes him want to try.

(Ryan knew, you see, while he was fixing Michael that the idiot would go right back out once he was done and try to do the impossible. May have drawn things out longer than he should have to prevent that from happening because he likes Michael, okay? Too much, maybe.)

This isn’t the way he saw things going, but he doesn’t want to die now. Doesn’t want to leave Michael alone to fix Ryan’s mistakes. (And maybe it’s not all on Ryan to fix, but who else is going to do it?)

So.

Michael hates it, hates it so much but he does what Ryan tells him to do. Gets him hooked up to the right machines, boots up the right programs and whatever else and watches Ryan die as he turns himself into an android.

He doesn’t know why Ryan’s doing what he’s doing, thinks it’s because he doesn’t want to just fade away into nothing, but Ryan tells him later.

Tells him everything as he’s figuring out how his new android body works, the two of them following gossip and rumors surrounding this broadcast someone’s sending out about the people responsible for making Michael what he is. Things said people are trying to shut down, shut down hard, but can never catch.

He tells him and Michael listens and it’s not easy, God is it ever not, but they come to an understanding  or something like that.

Ryan didn’t know, not for the longest time and when he did he tried to do something about that, and that has to count for something.

(He saved Michael’s life or whatever the hell you’d call it when he turned up on his doorstep, and that counts for something too.)

And just.

Michael’s got his own mistakes too, okay.

So.

They figure things out, and Ryan fixes up his android body so its face looks like his human one and he maybe upgrades it, Michael laughing at him when Ryan goes on and on and on about laser hands or whatever the hell. (Ridiculous and impractical as hell, but goddamn does it sound cool.)

Also, also? Ryan doesn’t have the combat training/protocols Michael does so ~training. Partly to get him used to how his new body moves, partly because they don’t have access to adequate things at first and Michael runs him through the basics, right?

And he teaches Ryan how to compensate for it when his targeting whatevers are on the fritz and Ryan proves to be a better shot than Michael? (New ways to bring old cliches and tropes into play, is what I’m getting at here.)

Those moments where Ryan comes up against the limitations of his new body, realizes what he’s lost when he chose to become an android and Michael just being there because he’s the best person to understand what he’s going through?

The two of them becoming this amazing team over time that is an actual threat to the people after them? (And E.D.G.A.R., because Ryan is too damn fond of the bucket of bolts.)

They run into assassination squads and whatever else and finally, finally find the source of the broadcasts and of course it’s Matt and all these misfits and outcasts with grudges against the assholes after Michael and Ryan and it’s just.

Shenanigans in space as this group of supposed space pirates/smugglers/criminal types take on a corrupt corporation because reasons.

Also, yes, totally FAHC AU in space, but different ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

================

More of this AU with Jerevin this time???

[a-dragon-and-an-eagle]

Cyberpunk 2077

So first and foremost I should say two things:

1. Well I did have glitches they were mostly the tolerable kind of graphical or animation hiccups, the game hasn’t crashed once on me. Which from what I am to understand is very rare

2. I hate Cyberpunk as a setting so that’s going to color a lot of this review.

This game was a massive let down, and I don’t want to be just on the hate train for it because well I’m well aware the hype behind it I was cautious because its cyberpunk and quiet frankly all cyberpunk are the same god damn story over and over again with 2077 being... the same god damn story again. So if you’re expecting: mega corporations, everyone having cyborg implants, some transhumanism themes, really weird and stupid slang for shit that really didn’t need it, lots of gang violence and lots of computer hacking then hurray for you! that’s exactly what you’re going to get! however those are all things that I’m indifferent/hate. So the strength of the game had to come from something other then the setting and the story/characters aren’t bad they are clearly written and acted by people who know what they’re doing, the problem is that they can’t really do much because the cyberpunk setting doesn’t give them a whole lot to do. There really isn’t all that much nuance to the whole game, everyone’s goals are surprisingly simple either “I want money” or “I want to fuck over the corporations.” And this is particularly bad with the main lead of Johnny Silver Hand who’s really only motivation is that he’s an angry dude with a lot of issues and then he doesn’t really have a whole lot to really add to most conversations other then “I don’t like this person” or “they’re an idiot”, which sucks because Keanu Reeves really is giving a good performance and near the end when he’s  having a character arch he managed to bring a tear to my eye; its just to bad that was the last 10 minutes of the game. Speaking of the ending! Spoilers but: When you’re given three choices of how to end the game “Assaulting the tower” sounds like it should be the most epic of all the endings and I’m not sure how you managed to cockup a finally where you drive a tank to attack a base full of corporate goons but it is so boring. Now if you’re like me and assumed this would be the ending where all your fixers and the characters you helped along the way would see what was going down and come help, bringing about the revolution Johnny was talking about, and it would be one massive war against the corporations like I did then we can both eat shit together because that is absolutely not what happens.

There are other things to complain about, like the shooting feels unpolished, there is way to many god damn quests that are just “Go here and shoot people” and other nitpicky stuff. But the thing I want to specially highlight is the driving is absolutely awful. No one could come out of this and go “ah yeah didn’t have any driving issues” because it is way to easy to fishtail your vehicle and despite all the cars and stuff on offer I only ended up using like two, one being a motorcycle with very fine control and the other being the Caliburn because it fast. By about hour 5 I was totally okay with the occasional pedestrian killing because they’re so dumb they jump into your way and the control was so poor that if I’m going on the sidewalk there is nothing that’s going to stop me. Also the game defaults to driving in first person and that is unfucking playable. Also also the one time I can say the game did do a sin of design was putting a combat heavy boss at the end of a stealth chapter. CDR you should know better!

But if I had to have one overreaching complaint for the game it would be that the game is absolutely cluttered. There are so many mechanics that don’t need to be there, like half the shit with hacking I didn’t even realize was there, I just got away with the basic turn off camera and distract enemies that by the time I figured out how to equip the other abilities I had no use for them, there are so many different weapons and clothing, but they all look disgusting or are barely functional, and there are so many quests and what not but if you’re looking for story then only a handful of them are worth doing. And most importantly the visuals are a mess. Like from a technical perspective I am impressed, there are piles of garbage in the corners and chips of paint missing from the walls that make it feel like a real city. But the issue is that its a lot of work to make something look gross and run down and well that is impressive its not really pleasing to the eye. Yeah I know that its there to help set the mood, but the mood is exhausting after a while of looking at all this run down stuff.

And I guess that’s what my final word on the game will be: A cluttered, exhausting, mess.

[fluffynin]

I rolled my eye lights as the three humans bickered. When I had Kris tell them to explain the so-called "strengthening" system of these weapons... Well, all three came up with different answers.

Which, with thinking about Kris and I being technically the same being, but so different... Makes sense as we have confirmed all four of us Legendary Heroes come from different Japans, or worlds to be exact.

So why are they saying the other is lying?

"HEY, HEY! CALM DOWN! WE SHOULDN'T FIGHT!" Sansy floated over with Papy, both brothers pulling at the souls of Ren and Motoyasu to seperate the trio.

"yeah. we are kind of up a shit creek without... oh, wrong saying," Papy flinched as he corrected himself.

Huh? Why was... Oh, yeah. My job as the taxi of the River Maze. I wonder if I can still access that place with our current situation. At least if we can get back to the Void, we can vacate any other Gasters who have ended up in there to this world.

Not a fix, but should be way safer than the constant threat of Anomalies trying to eat whatever code they find. Plus, I rather put my trust in other versions of myself than whatever so-called "help" that lousy excuse of a king was gathering. At least if there are other scientists and doctors like Kris and me, we could look into these Waves of Catastrophe properly instead of the half-assed way these humans been doing with summoning who-knows-what and throwing the poor souls into what sounds an all out slaughter.

Which, oddly, looking at my fellow heroes, they are all so young. Sure, techinically I was once human, but I was at least around Kris's age of about 200 years or so, off a few decades since comparing his now Darkner appearance to what he properly is as a magic skeleton. These three never seen the horrors of war. Hell, with the methods they told me... It almost sounds like they never been in a real...

I clapped my hands together and everyone jumped.

"Huh? What?" I yanked on Kris's sleeve to get his attention to my hands

-I think I figured it out.- I signed and opened up the menus.

Each of the humans said they played a game with similar settings to this world. I, myself, love to play MMORPGs and even got pretty well set up in a guild that got pretty good.

Yet, if I use that as a reference, what if the enhancement methods the trio talked about was not of the games they played... But instead it was the best way of enhancement overall for how the world's operating systems worked.

I noticed glitching and a prompt came up with the question if I wanted to adjust my current and only shield: Small Shield

I confirmed and took in a calming breathe.

I was never really good at this, but I've always done it to myself to keep my LOVe at 1. Plus, I currently have a little EXP to spend from the Anomalies I took out before this mess, so it is worth a shot. All I'll lost is EXP which is a win for me either way.

I touched the gem on my shield and felt myself submerged within the depths of its inner being. A huge web of symbols and lines, almost all dulled out. I went to the one that was dimmly glowed more than the others.

I held out my hand with a spark and pushed into the light. The symbol went ablazed and the flames flickered down the lines to other symbols... And branched into new lines and new symbols. I felt a flood of warmth before my senses returned to reality.

"You okay, Iwatani-san?" Itsuki asked.

Ah, right. I always took much longer than Coordinators. A big reason I never did it to others for payment.

Yet, looking through the menus and manual...

Adjustments and transfering of EXP and LOVe to improve stats and such. As well as new branches that demand... Oh, skulls.

Just what is going on with this weird ass world.

Well, let's focus first on my discovery as Adjustments weren't the only thing added to my menu and manual.

"📖⏺" I let the text boxes float up from my mouth.

"Wha?" Motoyasu voiced the confusion on all three humans' faces. Though, even Kris had a high brow arced.

Seriously? We both speak Wingdings and he never spoke shorthand?

"n says the book records?" Papy translated. "o-kay?" The twin skulls looked at each other with worried looks.

Itsuki and Ren, however, had their eyes widened. Itsuki motioned the air and narrowed his eyes. He nearly fell when something happened on the interface only visible to himself and me.

"Oh! The manual records new stuff as we learn it!" Itsuki grinned. "None of us are wrong, but instead all right!"

"But how?" Ren grimanced at his own menus. "I don't get your methods would work to make our weapons stronger." I motioned to Kris.

"Different operating systems, one unit?" Kris asked with decipering my signs. Oh, good. Was a bit worried as our sign lanuages were a bit different with some words.

However, seemed that got the idea across for Motoyasu and Ren.

"So our weapons act like hardware that can take on various software." Ren said as he gotten a glitchy interface. " Wait... Could this be why we can't work together? Our weapons' original systems conflicts with the others?"

"It would explain why we defaulted to different set ups." Motoyasu crossed his arms. "So to make up for not able to work together, we can share our enhancement methods with each other to increase our strength."

I snapped my fingers and did jazz hands with a grin.

"But, what's your method?" I felt the ice in the trio's glares at me.

"We shared ours, yet you haven't said... Oh, right..." They flinched at my double birdie.

"My method is called Adjustment." Kris translated. "It's a bit hard to explain, so it would be easier if you let me do it. I'm not that good, but it should allow the better users of this the means to do it."

"Wait, this isn't a video game mechanic?" Itsuki asked with a raised brow.

"AH! THAT!" Sansy jumped. "YOU REALLY SURE YOU WANNA TRY ADJUSTING THEIR WEAPONS? THEY AREN'T-"

I tapped my shield's gem and signed.

"They are similar enough. I got it to work." Kris crossed his arms. "But what is this Adjustment thing, dear brother." Kris gave me the "Dad Eyes." I felt my throat tightened into a gulp.

-Explain later. Just think of it as the simple version of what turned you from skeleton to human.- Kris's grimance deepened. -I just never thought I could go in reverse. Usually can get the advance method to work with turning human souls into monster kind.-

"I see. So it enhances the soul aspects of the weapons and users." Kris caught the hint and let it go. "It's magic, so it is a little hard to express it in... Human language?" Kris let out a sigh. "At least from our world, magic is usually more expressive than logically explained. Our kind... Our race of humans are the few able to express magic much like other magical races."

"So... You're mages." Ren said with a nod. "Like how VR is common in my world. In a way, it makes since considering Shields were bad in the game I played."

"Wait, the same for you, too?" Motoyasu asked in shock.

"My game also did Shields badly," Itsuki flinched. "Which makes it worse seeing you in a wheelchair, Iwatani-san. It's like you got no straw at all instead of the short straw."

What? I just raised an eyebrow with confusion.

How was being in a wheelchair bad? Hell, these were the best wheels I had in my life! Custom-made and foldable, perfect for someone like me who uses wheels for ease of life.

"ah, right. humans aren't used to n's type." Papy rolled his eyelight.

"I don't get it." Kris huffed. "Doesn't a wheelchair help increase my brother's abilities?"

"Ah, but we will be in combat." Motoyasu gave me a loot of pity. "How can a crippled person-"

Both twins burst into laughter while Kris glared daggers at the three humans. Ah, right, monster kind is used to having to adapt all sorts of ways to help each other living Underground... Especially after the pollution turned the River into the maze twisted with time and space itself.

"What... Oh," Ren went wide eyed. "Right, a mage. When I think how magic is used in the game... Of course a Legendary Hero specializing in magic would focus on defense."

"Huh?" Motoyasu cocked his head.

"Oh, yeah! Pure mages were always weak to close combat. So, instead of having a staff, you have a means of defense as you lob spells at the enemies."

"Wha? Don't cha mean bullets?" Kris snorted. "Spells are a human thing that lack any expression. Bullets are far faster and effect in combat than chanting stupid phrases." Kris snapped his fingers for a bone bullet to appear and he balanced it on the tip of one.

"B-Bullet?" All three asked before they went pale. "Like in... a bullet hell game?"

I guess one could call my magic akin to a magic bullet hell. I sure know the Eighth Fallen probably saw our fights as such.

"Bullet hell?" The skull twins and once skeleton asked with confused dazes.

Me?

I just gave a devish smile.

"👍"

-----------

Trying to get out of the worldbuilding trap with writing linked short fics. This one came from the sketch above and just snowballed into this. Hope it is enjoyable as it was for me to write this.

PS - Correcting some mistakes.

[blametheeditor]

F Is For Friends

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of death. The idea of being damned to hell. The idea of someone smaller being treated unequally. Mentions of stealing someone’s life and make it their own.

Run Down: A giant learning how to properly treat tinies. Even if they are evil little bi- HE MEANS angels...demonic angels.

F is also for fire that burns down the whole town.

_________________________

Tyler slaps away the pencil currently nudging his arm, a growl to state he wants to be left alone.

”Eggs.”

A wide smile states the giant moron is enjoying how aggravated this makes the video game character. The essential giant doesn’t pull away from the game of ‘How Pissed Off Can I Make Tyler’, nearly causing the ten year old boy to face plant from a particularly hard shove.

Go burn in hell.

“What?” the mechanic rumbles, clearly amused as he pokes the now silently fuming figure. “Not having fun?”

“How the hell can I have fun when all you do is ridicule me and make torturing me some kind of sick game to display the power I know you have?”

The night guard pouts at the theatrics being used. “I’m not displaying power. I’m having fun.”

The British boy doesn’t comment, opting to stalk away with the full intent to leave.

Damn Eggs. Not displaying power? He knows the idiotic human would say something much different if Tyler could just show him. Poking him with a bloody pencil. Not only continuing with the ‘game’ after the significantly smaller said to stop with the insufferable action, but with a utensil so painfully easy to pick up for the human, yet would be nearly impossible for the video game character.

But he can’t switch bodies. He can’t literally put Eggs in his shoes. Not only is he not allowed near technology, to stand at a normal height without towering beings making him feel insignificant, they took away what’s rightfully his. The very coding that made Tyler Tyler. Leaves him vulnerable and useless. Until some idiot actually agrees to switch their minds.

As if anyone would want to become an immortal, annoying, stupid little insect that can be killed as many times as they want. To become the plaything. Willingly.

He’ll have better chances getting Mike to never curse again.

He apologized. Tyler admitted he was wrong. Which isn’t something the boy can do easily. His pride took a substantial hit when he looked at his actions and said his vengeance on the guards wasn’t right. They weren’t the humans he was looking for. They weren’t the ones that hurt him.

But they’re making his life a living hell now. With in infernal excuse he tried to take their lives. When he desired to make everything they’ve worked hard to his. Something he hadn’t had for years. A life. A home. A family. He just wanted it back. He will get it back. He went about it the wrong way, however.

And because he made a mistake and can’t defend himself, they find it fit to punish him. No matter how much time has passed since then. When they didn’t even ask why he pulled such a stunt.

The video game character forces pitiful tears away as he approaches the phone, hand reaching out to become absorbed into its coding. Travel somewhere he can just be ignor-

The British boy yells as a hand slams down in front of him, a flesh wall keeping the briefly glitching figure from getting to his well earned break from all of this.

“BLOODY HELL! What was that! You moron, you almost made me respawn!”

“You were strutting off somewhere!” Eggs defends. Not noticing just how broken Tyler looks. How fed up he is with everything going on. The mechanic’s just making sure the trouble maker that’s his responsibility doesn’t start up shit somewhere! “You can’t just leave!”

“AND WHY THE HELL NOT!” the minuscule form screams, glaring daggers up at the giant who looks as if he was caught with his hand inside a cookie jar.

“Why can’t I leave you bothering me despite me telling you to piss off! Why can’t I have someone else hold me prisoner in this hell! Why can’t I have some other moron tell me I’m too small to make them stop! Or that I shouldn’t complain and demand because I deserve this! Despite you pricks having a murderer who can run free, my actions warrant this because you can! I can’t leave because of a bloody hand blocking my way! Why am I stuck here when I don’t want to be!”

Because you’ll try to switch with someone!

Something that can’t happen unless someone agrees.

You’ll bother and annoy them!

Even though Tyler had been sitting quietly on the desk before.

Because you’re under my care!

...some care if he wants to leave so badly.

Eggs’ hand retracts at the thought. Because as pompous as the little bastard is, they have fun together sometimes. The character enjoys talking to him and thinking up possible inventions to make.

But maybe he does get...power hungry.

Where he doesn’t let Tyler leave the desk. Leave the sister location. Poke him because he can. Nudge him because he can. Put the yelling little thing in his pocket because it’s funny.

It’s just so easy! To have someone literally in the palm of your hand! Be able to keep someone close and mess around with. With the other not being able to say no.

“Sorry, Tyler,” has those brown eyes reflecting a red color narrow in suspicion. “You’re just so small.”

“Damn you.”

“I didn’t mean to be an asshole,” the human continues. “It’s just fun and it seems harmless but I didn’t realize how it might seem to you. So I’ll be better, okay? No poking you with pencils and pens. Deal?”

That’s...not he was expecting.

Damn all of them.

Tyler continues to glare before huffing, straightening his vest and then finally crossing his arms.

“Thank you. I will whole heartedly accept this apology by you burning in hell for eternity.”

And there’s the little bitch he loves so much!

“Friends?”

“We were never, and will never, be friends.”

“Friends it is!”

“I am cutting all your damned hair off and throwing it into the pits of hell.”

“Definitely friends.”

[jamierenfrey]

Week 3a - Development: Mutant Kitty

Objective

This weeks goal was to establish a basic 2D prototype for Mutant Kitty with core mechanics and elements for users to playtest.

Goals

My goals for this weeks objective was to follow the K.I.S.S. (keep it simple stupid) method. I set a list of core elements to focus on;

Mechanic: Laser

Short Level Design

Scenes: Home, Level 1, Pause/Help, Win/Lose

GUI: Health, Enemy Defeat

Enemies: Attack Method and Movement

Animations: Walk, Run, Jump, Idle, Death

Challenges and Solutions

This week I found a multitude of problems in establishing a playtestable prototype. Although I had success in practicing basic elements in the tutorial, putting these into practice in a different games context was actually quite challenging.

Mechanic: Laser

Challenge

As effective as my laserbeam was in moving left, I found it hard to establish the correct events conditions and actions that flip it to target right.

I also found that the first instance of the laser stuck to the players eyes on first click of the attack button and I was yet to discover a way to bend the laser when player is jumping as to be seemless in design.

Solution

For a playtestable version, having the mechanic work in the slightest was my intended goal. I believe I will play with the object “Draw Line” a bit more to replace the “sprite” for the laser.

Short Level Design

Challenge

Tiling with created objects streamlined my level design approach although I struggled with exact placements. Even one pixel off from connecting elements and it was noticeable throughout playtesting. I also did not realise I had the tree objects set to “Platform” as a behaviour, so I encountered problems there, easily fixed.

One major problem I faced was invisible platforms, even when environment tile behaviours were set to not be platforms, the player would, at times, encounter an invisible platform.

Solution

To rectify the invisible platform problem, I revisited the core elements and left the top of the “grass” objects as platforms and set the “body”/”dirt” elements to be non platforms.

For the trees, I removed the platofrm behaviour and actually decided to keep trees at different Z positions so that it gave the effect of the player running through a forest.

Scenes: Home, Level 1, Pause/Help, Win/Lose

Challenge

Establishing the basic scenes for the Mutant Kitty project was simplistic enough. I found plenty of information online for event conditions to trigger different scenes. One problem I faced however was that the win/lose conditions could be met a little too easily by standing at the starting point. Combating this, I altered the laserbeam behaviours to dissapear at the end of screen, though even after applying this behaviour, it constantly reset without applying.

Solution

The win/lose conditions are a work in progress.

GUI: Health, Enemy Defeat

Challenge

From previous programming in other applications and design subjects, I knew layering was going to be critical to the flow of the game. One thing I did not anticipate would be an issue during development was that when an object was copied in the editor and pasted on screen, it added another level to the Z position in the base layer. So when I continued to playtest, I found trees glitching behind platforms and clouds following the player on screen.

The health system mechanics I had established after (yet again) mistaking the variable conditions from string to integer. After this was fixed I found that “deleting” the health object actually was more ineffective than just “hiding” the object. When translating this to the enemy defeat conditions, it did not work as well. The sprite object used for the top right of the screen was displayed at start of the level, but hiden, then when an enemy was defeated the conditions were set to “show” the sprite. Oddly, every few platests I discovered that the sprite actually displayed in many different locations on screen.

Solution

I am now checking the variable conditions with a fine tooth comb!

As for the GUI health and enemy defeat conditions to show/hide on screen, I intend to revisit the events and find the coding area that triggers the instances and potentially set them to trigger once. Health seems to work seamlessly, the enemy defeat however requires attention.

Enemies: Attack Method and Movement

Challenge

Triggering conditions for opponents seemed simple in theory, however, duplicating the players attack and replacing the condition to “upon collision” did not work as effectively as intended. I am yet to discover a way to trigger enemy projectiles before collision without it being set to randomly fire onscreen.

I also had to create a new attack as I had the laserbeam for both player and enemy, but due to collision events, when the enemy shot the laserbeam, it deleted itself because it “collided” upon fire.

Solution

I created a new object for the enemy projectile and will investigate consistentcy of attack from enemies rather than a collision condition. The animation for enemy death will also be played with as this is an element I do not wish to exclude from the game.

Animations: Walk, Run, Jump, Idle, Death

Challenge

Simplistic enough to establish animations for the player and enemy objects, however, I found it challenging to display death animations for enemies while they moved left and right then deleting the object at the end of the animation. The enemies would end up finishing their death sequence and continue moving, even if I set the object to stop first. Same issue for the player as I had that object set to return to the start of the level upon getting hurt.

Solution

The health variable conditions I may update to not reset the player at the start of the game, instead, reduce the health and only restart the level upon a lose condition, unless the player falls from platforms or in the water areas (cats hate water!).

In Closing;

The Mutant Kitty prototype is established enough to a playable standard to test current mechanics. I am interested in player feedback for what is currently presented. Although I hold no expectations of feedback, I am interested in discovering the players focal areas to better improve the challenges, mechanics and overall enjoyability of Mutant Kitty!

Sprite Acknowledgement

https://www.gameart2d.com/freebies.html

Mutant Kitty Playtest Link

https://games.gdevelop-app.com/game-8e13bf39-0cd0-4675-af72-5fc1e760b7e4/index.html

[smokeybrand]

You’re Beautiful

CD Projeckt Red has overtaken Ubisoft as the most profitable game company in Europe and I absolutely love that sh*t. Red makes games the way they should be made; Narrative first, game play next, micro-transactions an after thought. They took a franchise famous mostly in their homeland, The Witcher, and turned in a trilogy of games that are some of the best to ever be made. There work revitalized popularity with the books, which directly lead to the excellent Netflix series. Thank god for that because, without it, I would know nothing of the ravishing Anya Chalotra. Those games are spectacular and, while there was some DLC content one could purchase, it was proper narrative additions that added hours of game play, not some stupid sword or vanity skin. They added meat to your purchase and were worth the additional cost. The original Witcher trilogy is quietly one of the best in gaming and Red deserves all of the shine for making that licensing deal so long ago. Once that Witcher clout was earned, they turned their attention to another obscure, niche title, for which to give that renaissance touch. An old board game called Cyberpunk 2020 and i live for that sh*t.

If you know me, then you know one of my favorite genres in media is the cyberpunk dystopia. Love all of that sh*t. From Blade Runner to Dark City to Akira and Ghost in the Shell; All of that mechanized existential madness hits my sweet spot just right. The fusion of the artificial and the organic. The man or machine pathos. The intrinsic body horror of having augmentation. The blurred lines between consciousness and computers. All of that makes for a rich playground to grow some incredibly unique narratives. You can imagine when i got the first shots of that gynoid taking a bullet to the cheek, blood all over her cyborg titties, mantis blades fully extended for an acrobatic and visceral bloodening; I lost all of my sh*t. CD Projekt Red is a great studio and prides itself on crafting worlds so i knew this franchise was in good hands. What they’ve shown so far is absolutely breathtaking. From the graphics to the game play, to the customization,this thing looks like a true experience. Never mind the dope ass Keanu cameo, the game, itself, looks fun as sh*t to play and I can't wait to finally get my hands on it.

Ubisoft is kind of a paper tiger in this regard. We're talking about a multi-billion dollar Goliath of a company, being overtaken by an upstart with three, successful, titles under their belt. Assassin’s Creed was a stroke of genius. That was lightning in a bottle. It is little more than a Prince of Persia clone but Ubi owned that IP. They could do as much or as little as they wanted with it and, boy, did the do the most. They chased that yearly release money and ran their most profitable franchise into the ground. Admittedly, they turned a massive profit in the process but it was only a matter of time before that strategy collapsed and it eventually did just that. Before switching to a proper development cycle, Ubi pushed out sh*t upon sh*t for several sequels, glitch filled, unplayable, jokes, bankrupting the goodwill fostered by the early titles of the franchise. It took a two year hiatus and one of the best games in the entire Creed library, Origins, to win back fans. They followed this with the amazing Odyssey; A game I actual purchased myself and I don’t even like Assassin’s Creed. I sure enough love me some Kassandra, though. Also, that horrifyingly gorgeous Sphinx. Like, holy sh*t, man!

Red overtook Ubisoft through sheer quality. They don’t have the library to compete with Ubi on anything near equal footing, but the quality of their product is laughably superior in almost every aspect. With the exception of Odyssey, Origins, and Creed II, modern Ubisoft might as well be sh*tting out shuffleware by comparison. Once upon a time, this wasn’t the case. Once upon a time, Ubisoft was that crazy eccentric, upstart studio, who took risks and were rewarded with staunch supporters and loyal fans. Ubisoft used to be the place to go when you wanted to make a game that no one else gave a second thought. Rayman, Beyond Good and Evil, and even the Prince of Persia trilogy, were all titles that got passed over by other studios for one reason or another. But those crazy Frenchmen saw something in those games and invested in them. They gave them the tools and let those creators do they're thing. That’s CD Projeckt Red’s entire modus operandi. They’re doing Ubisoft better than Ubisoft and it’s very telling. I guess the old adage is true; When you get older, you become the establishment you railed against as a youth. Red should take note and strive to avoid such a disappointing fate but not quite yet. I think they have a few years of being that rebel studio left in the tanks. They, apparently, got the value and cash in the bank, to stay the course at least.

[thorongil82]

A Broken Heart Bleeds Tears - Chapter 1 - The Big Announcement

Fandom: Spider-Man, MCU

Chapter: 1/?

Words: 4090/?

Summary: Peter should be happy with his life. He has a great job helping people alongside a smart and wonderful man, Spider-Man is still needed and supported by the majority of Queens and New York, the Avengers are happy to have him part of their group, and his friends and family are all living healthily and happily. He should be happy, right? 

But he's not. Because the love of his life loves someone else. And it feels like it's killing him.

Tag-list: @forasecondtherewedwon @seek-rest

Can also read on AO3 here.

AN: Just a quick thing to say, yes, I’ve seen FFH (went to see it today), but there won’t be any spoilers for it. Not in this chapter, anyway. If there will be within a reasonable time of FFH’s release, then I’ll post a warning beforehand. Hope you all enjoy! 

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

System Check Failure. Receptor Efficiency Levels at 28%

Peter Parker groans as he stares at the interface blinking defiantly in front of him. Another component that didn't want to cooperate with him. So many little pieces of technology that couldn't work together for some inane reason, piling together to cause one big mess that needs fixing in a weeks time. Preferably earlier to get the testing done beforehand. Peter's certain that the man waiting for his prosthetic arm would prefer to have it as soon as possible, with minimal glitches, if any, circulating through the system. There's so many problems that comes with helping people – if anyone would know, it would be Spider-Man.

Why can't doing right by people be easy? Maybe to make sure people who think they're doing the right thing when they're causing the opposite can't harm too many innocents.

Peter runs his hands over his face, drawing large circles that squeeze and push his sweaty skin out before it snaps back into place, as he stares intently at the screen of the laptop in front of him. Maybe staring long and hard enough will get it to work. It hasn't been his experience so far, but you never know. With a hiss he throws his hands up to aimlessly reach for the rafters as he stretches out his arms and back, the cushioned chair beneath him creaking as it arches back, before they drop back down to brush lightly through the soft brown curls of his hair. Still the system failure blinks back at him, unfazed at the intensity of his stare.

Pity, he'd been working hard on becoming more intimidating. Many a remark has been said about how he couldn't frighten anyone if he wanted to. Clearly, they haven't witnessed him walking on the ceiling without the mask concealing his identity. Though, criminals didn't seem scared of him either. Sure, they were afraid of the prospect of being caught, but of Spider-Man himself? Not so much. And this system was proving to be in agreement with the majority. Six hours of working, fuming, contemplating and attempts at glaring resulted in receptors that weren't responding to begin with still not responding. If only he was more like one of the women most prominent in his life. He was sure that Pepper, Aunt May or Michelle could easily glare this stupid program into submission. Hell, most of the Avengers team could too, though he doubted Shuri would even need to.

Maybe it's just a female thing. Or he finds them more intimidating because he's a man. Maybe both – they'd all have a field day torturing him if they found out he only thought they were intimidating because of gender stereotypes and identities. They'd never let him hear the end of it.

“Why are you such a pain?” Peter mutters to the laptop as he presses a few keys, pulling out from the system for the receptors responding to the nerve signals of the patient and running a full diagnostic check.

Seeing the assessments start up, he gets out of his chair and double-checks that the cables are secure as they snake from the laptop to the jet-black and graphite-grey metallic arm dangling lifelessly off to the side. If all goes well, it could potentially function better than the real one that it was replacing. Peter reminded himself to talk to Shuri about how she managed to get Bucky's arm to work so well. He had asked Bucky, but the White Wolf couldn't explain how any of the arms made for him had worked, only that it was second nature like any other limb. Maybe the next time they talked …

“How're the receptors coming along, Pete?” asked a raspy male voice from behind the pile-up of dressers and parts in front of Peter. Walking around the cluttered shelving is an elderly balding gentlemen with a tuft of greying hair wrapped around the side and back of his head, a pair of thin spectacles over his eyes, draped in a long white lab coat identical to the one covering Peter's clothing, save that it says Dr Otto Octavius across the right side of his chest, whereas Peter's has his own name.

“They're more frustrating than they were when I left them last night,” Peter answers, shooting a side-glance off at the screen.

“Why? What's the matter?”

“There's still complications in transferring messages,” Peter explains as Dr Octavius walks over and has a look at the running diagnostic check.

“Uh-huh.”

“Also, the response time is still way too slow, and that sudden energy drop still seems to be an issue.”

“Well, that's not good,” Otto murmurs, standing up straight and placing a hand on his chin. “How did the movements look when I sent the signals through?”

“They seemed to move fine, though I think some of the joints aren't fitted quite right,” Peter answers as he moves closer to the limb. “Parts seemed to be grinding together throughout some of the flexes.”

“Yes, I did hear that screeching,” Otto replies as he moves next to Peter. “Whereabouts do you think the rubbing parts are?”

“Along by the elbow joint,” Peter says, pointing at the hinge, “along with some in the wrist. I'm not sure if that means some pieces have loosened, or if they were too big to begin with.”

“Well, at least it's a hardware issue,” Otto remarks. “That'll be easier to deal with than the software.”

“It just feels like we're running out of time,” Peter admits with a sigh, leaning up against the bench and crossing his arms over his chest.

“We've still got time,” Otto replies with a warm smile, moving back over to the laptop. “This is just progress. Sometimes it's not as fast as we would like, but nothing that's ever worth doing will be done quickly. What was the efficiency levels on the receptors?”

“28 percent.”

“See, that's better than it was yesterday,” Otto grins. “Going from 12 percent efficiency to 28 is progress. And pretty significant at that.”

“It's still not good enough,” Peter glumly admits, wandering over as a loud beep sounds out from the laptop indicating that the complete diagnostic check has finished.

“Nothing ever will be,” Otto points out as he leans down to read the report. “There's always going to be a bigger problem that our solution can't fix. But that doesn't make what we do and the people we help any less important. Take a look at this.”

Peter leans down beside Otto and begins looking over the information.

“Everything's responding better than yesterday,” Otto summarises. “Energy levels, range of movement, stability, reception.”

Peter takes a slight glance at the older scientist and catches him looking back at him before he continues, “Here; able to operate at 54 percent capacity, efficiency at 63 percent. Everything's progressing fine.”

“There's still some system failures,” Peter points out, taking in the flashing orange and red errors that have also popped up. “Still some critical that'll disable the entire network.”

“Perhaps, but there's still less than what there was before.”

“Don't worry about it, Peter,” Otto says as he claps a hand down on the younger scientist's back. “The receptors were always going to be the most complicated part. And the energy drop. Once they're solved, everything else will fall into place. Don't worry about it.”

Peter looks over and gives his mentor a tight lipped smile before looking back at the screen.

“Look, if it makes you feel better, copy the receptor program down and work on it over the weekend,” Otto sighs, his comforting hand rising away from Peter's shoulder. “Just make sure you do get some sleep. A good night's sleep can work wonders. You might even find that you've been staring at the solution all this time.”

“That'll be more annoying than anything it that does happen,” Peter says as he reaches into his backpack that had been lying beneath the bench where he was sitting, rummaging through and pulling out a hard drive. “But thank you, Otto.”

“Don't mention it, Pete,” Otto chuckles, walking over to the mechanical arm.

Peter plugs in the hard drive and starts the process of the program downloading before he gets a buzz in his pocket. Pulling his phone free from the pocket, he looks down to see a bright notification flashing back up at him – a message sent from Aunt May.

                                                                         Reminder that dinner is in 30 mins

Peter slowly smirks as he unlocks the device and quickly shoots back a response.

So ordering Thai in 15?

“Plans for the evening?” Otto inquires, his voice filled with a warm, humoured tone.

“Yes, for once, but not like that,” Peter clarifies. “May's invited some friends round for dinner.”

“Ah, well, it's better than spending it alone,” Otto admits, turning his attention back to the mechanical limb, gently prodding and moving the fingers to test the joints.

Peter had mentioned details of his personal life to Otto many times during their projects, simply making conversation to pass the time as they worked on their experimental projects, both funded or otherwise. Otto knew that Peter had moved out from May's, though he still sometimes stayed over – though not always for the reasons he gives. Otto knew that Peter lived in an apartment with his best friend Ned Leeds, who occasionally helped them out with coding and programming if they couldn't quite grasp it. Otto knew that Ned had been spending more and more time away with Betty, his beautiful girlfriend, which was more than okay – it was their lives to live and who would Peter be to keep them from being happy. But even then, coming home to an increasingly empty apartment was lonely, especially after some of the things he'd have to see as Queen's favourite neighbourhood superhero. Not everything comes down to giving directions to lost tourists and old ladies, or rescuing cats stuck up trees. Otto knew of the times, few and far between, that Peter had been set up for a date, blind or otherwise, by his concerned friends. And Otto knew that those few setups and occasional one night stands after a night out remained short term were because Peter didn't feel a connection. They had been kind, and funny, and attractive, and sweet, but the young Parker didn't feel a connection. Otto and his friends knew there was no spark, because young Peter Parker couldn't stop picturing and comparing them to someone else.

The one he could never get over. The one that he could never get.

                                                                                                           Hopefully not

The phone in Peter's hand buzzes off again – another message from his aunt, just as the program finishes downloading onto his drive. When he goes to reach for it to unplug it, his phone vibrates again.

                                                                                     It does look edible this time                                                                                                         And no burning

Not always a good sign

Peter quickly shoots off the response with a grim smirk, remembering the many times his aunt's attempted cooking ventures had failed spectacularly, the Parker boy returning home after a late decathlon session or a patrolling swing-about as the man in red-and-blue to find smoke billowing out of whichever door or window was opened. Miraculously, the apartment never burned down – how, Peter could never figure out. There was no formula for how May could constantly mess up a recipe, regardless of if it was inspiration or from a recipe book – it was always difficult to distinguish between the two – nor for how the apartment managed to survive each and every disaster. It even fended off the charred cereal fire of 2024, and the inexplicably boiled whipped cream incident the year later, when nary a lit flame could be found in either scenario. Maybe there was something more to his survival skills than he thought.

                                                                                                                       Hey!!!                                                                    I do manage to cook some things right

I know

Peter disconnects the drive and places it in the backpack before the short break between the messages is broken by May's response.

                                                                                     The menus are on standby

Peter chuckles to himself and shakes his head, pocketing his phone before turning to his mentor. “Do you need a hand cleaning up?”

“No, no, you go on ahead,” Otto answers, shaking his head with a smile. “I wouldn't want you to keep May waiting.”

“Are you sure? Because I don't mind helping clean-”

“Peter,” Otto says sternly, the way Peter's realised only someone who's dealt with children a significant part of their lives before can do. There's always a slight warmth to it that means they don't mean the tone, but you shouldn't push your luck else disaster strikes your youthful life. May always had such a knack for tapping into it more than enough times for the Parker boy to know that trouble was abound, even before gaining his wondrous spider-sense.

“You could probably come along as well,” Peter squeaks out, “I-If you want?”

“I wouldn't want to intrude,” Otto declines, his hands raised up and shaking the idea away. “Not uninvited, anyway. You just worry about getting there on time.”

“Okay. Thank you, Otto.”

“Don't mention it, Pete,” Otto says as he brings his assistant and protégé in for a quick hug before letting him break away to grab his backpack and sling it over his shoulder. “Give my best to May, won't you?”

“I will.”

---                                                                                                                            

“Peter!” May exclaims as she opens the door right on his third knock and embracing him in a tight hug.

“I haven't been gone that long,” Peter chuckles, deliberately tightening the constriction in his voice to humour the vice grip her embrace would have been were he not an all powerful superhero. “How did cooking dinner go?”

“The Thai been picked up,” hollers Ned's voice from further within, causing May to send a soft glare over her shoulder.

“It wasn't that bad,” she stresses, letting go of her nephew and allowing him to enter the apartment. “But we figured it was probably better to order takeaway. Just in case.”

“Sticking to what you know?”

“Precisely,” May grins, walking into the kitchen and allowing Peter to take a breath.

Instantly, he grimaces and pulls his head down, the coarse scent of ash, burnt meatloaf and vegetables seared to charcoal wafting over and bristling his nostrils. Admittedly, not the worst smell he's come across in this apartment, but still pretty bad in terms of cooking ability. There was definitely a reason why he took a cooking unit back in high school.

“I'm sorry I'm late,” Peter coughs up, the dry air choking his throat. “Otto sends his regards.”

“He's a sweet man,” May says, scrubbing away the blackened remains out of her pan with a metal scour. “You could have invited him.”

“I did offer. He said he didn't want to intrude.”

“Well, he'll just have to come around next time. Sit down, sit down. I'll go grab the dishes. Ned, can you unpack the containers?”

“Sure thing, May,” Ned answers from the dining table, standing up from beside Betty as she untangles her arms from around him and pulling out the many containers from their bags, setting them side by side in the middle of the table.

“Aw, my Neddy-Bear's such a gentleman,” Betty coos from her chair, her arms folding over on top of her backrest before leaning her head onto her limbs, sending a bright wide smile towards her partner.

“If you had told me, I could have grabbed the food on the way-”

“Oh, nonsense, sweetie,” May says, hurrying over and pressing a kiss to Peter's cheek while ruffling his messy brown curls. “Guests shouldn't have to pick up food.”

“But I'm family.”

“You're still a guest when you're not staying here,” May points out, before ducking into the kitchen

“At least you didn't burn the place down,” Peter calls after her, chuckling softly to himself.

“Yeah, right, Parker. Like none of us know about your chemistry exploits,” drawls a voice behind him that silences his laugh in an instant, matching neither the one that emanated from Ned nor Betty beforehand. A voice that pulls on one of the many coils threaded tightly through his chest, wrapped tightly around his heart and squeezing it like a vice. The voice lathered in honey and laced in silk that drags upon his beating centre, wrenching it down into the unbounded dark pit within himself. The voice that both fuels the hope and fire in his heart, yet also tortures him in the eternal night with sharp pains and throbbing aches.

“Or would you prefer accidents?”

“W-What?” he stammers as he slowly moves through the apartment, circling round the happy couple snuggling by the dining table. “W-What accidents?”

“You know, spontaneous combustion, suddenly exploding drawers when there shouldn't be anything inside even remotely volatile,” continues the agonisingly beautiful voice from the couch. “Like when we're just taking a theory lesson, for example.”

Finally, as his feet haul the rest of his being round the dining table and the long end of the couch in the adjoined living room, his eyes confirm what his ears had suspected, not that he can completely trust them after so many false leads and wishful thoughts tricking his heightened senses. For lying down on some mass across his Aunt's couch, head buried inside a book as thick as a wizard's tome – hardcover, as to make sure not even the most ignorant fool would ever dare try to attack her, long brown curls elegantly cascading down like the spray erupting over a waterfall, is one Michelle Jones. Very close friend, former decathlon captain, eerily observant person capable of discerning any secret that you would dare to try and hide from her, and, ultimately, a thief.

Yes, Michelle Jones is guilty of theft, and of destruction of property, but not even his alter-ego can catch her. For Spider-Man cannot catch someone who has taken something so intangible, regardless of the pain it leaves. Nor punish them for breaking something they do not know they have broken, let alone prove that the damage is done.

“I-I don't know what you're talking about ...” he lies, hoping that the look on his face didn't give away the truth, both of the fib and the other secrets he's held inside.

“Of course not, just like how you conveniently forgot when we had decathlon practice,” she jabs, her eyes not darting off of the pages laid out in front of her, yet by the slight drawl in her tone and the prickly pinch crawling along his skin, Peter was fairly certain that she saw right through his immediate fabrication. “Time and time again.”

“Come on, the man's always got a lot on his plate. He's allowed to forget some things,” interjects a smooth masculine voice from beneath MJ's form, alerting Peter to his presence. Tanned, strong arms are wrapped around her waist, while his legs lay tangled together with Michelle's. His head peers out from behind her mane of hair, his own short brown curls slicked back with gel. “I'm sure you've forgotten things before when you're busy.”

“Nope,” she answers bluntly, turning her head away from her book to look at him. “Must be a guy thing.”

“Of all people who could make a stereotype ...” he chuckles as he trails off, smiling a bright smile showcasing his pearl white teeth. One of his arms leaves her waist and travels to her face, gently brushing away her hair.

“Harry? You're back?” Peter inquires.

“In the flesh,” he replies, shuffling out from underneath MJ and stepping up to Peter, grabbing his hand for a shake before pulling him in for a bro-hug, both patting each other's backs. “Flew in a couple of hours ago.”

“How was France?”

“Pretty good. Would have been better with you guys but, hey, that's the downside of business.”

Harry Osborn, close friend to the lot of them, carefree, relaxed, charming, heir to his father's many ventures and darling in the eyes of the media. In all fairness, Peter did really like the guy. He wasn't Ned, but he was a great friend to have. He was always looking out for his friends, cared about other people's problems, and could have a good laugh with anyone. And, if he tended to say something that wasn't quite right, he would generally realise it very quickly – though it does help having Michelle as a friend to keep that ingrained. Overall, they got along really well. There was just one thing that irked Peter about him …

“I'll just have to take you guys with me next time,” Harry continues as they pull apart before sauntering back to his formerly shared place on the couch that was now fully occupied by MJ, having returned to her book. “You mind moving over, babe?”

“I thought you hated pet names?” Peter directs towards Michelle.

“I do. He knows that.”

“Maybe, princess, but I'll get you to break eventually,” he smiles.

When she doesn't move, he shrugs and goes to sit on her long legs, flopping down on them and prodding and poking them with his fingers till she eventually squirms them out from under him, drawing them close to her body.

“Get off,” she huffs, a strand of hair falling across her face.

“Come on, MJ,” he persists, leaning over and resting his head on her raised knees. He reaches a hand out and gently pushes down on the binding on the book, dragging it down. Undeterred, she continues to read, her eyes tracing the lines and words quickly. That is, until he reaches his other hand out and cups her chin, slowly raising it up and getting her to look to him. “Hey there.”

“I hate you.”

“I know,” he smirks, before pecking her lips with his own, Peter turning away just before it happens.

There are some harrowing things he can endure, but some things even his mighty Spider-heart just can't take.

“Gross,” she mutters when Harry pulls away, yielding his hands away from her book and letting her continue reading. Her stoic expression seems to remain intact, though Peter does notice the corner of her lips have curled up and, had he been as close as he yearns to, he would have seen a slight tinge to her usual colour tone.

“Come on, dinner time!” May calls out from the table, followed by a metallic clutter as the cutlery rattles along the surface. “Wash up and get over here.”

With everyone cleaned up and sitting at the table, they start to dish up their food. All bar Peter, patiently waiting for the others to get their share. At least, that would be his excuse if he was asked. His heightened metabolism does need a lot of food, but he's not about to take all the food from everyone. In reality, he was just captivated watching Michelle, taking in everything about her that he could and engraving it all into his mind. Her laugh, her smile, her quirks and ticks. Everything. And desperately hoping that he wasn't being obvious.

He had wondered if her being taken just made him want her more; the temptation of the forbidden fruit. He wondered if being in love with MJ made him a bad friend to both her and Harry, partners that seemed quite happy with each other and have been since their last year in high school. As much as he loved Michelle, being jealous of Harry and wanting to be beside her instead of him, he just couldn't do anything that would hurt them both. They were some of the best friends he'd ever had. He didn't want to throw that away in a petty move.

“Peter, you going to eat?” May asks, her voice cutting through his lost wondering and shaking him from his reverie.

“Huh?” he squeaks, suddenly noticing all the eyes on him. “O-Oh, uh, yeah.”

He reaches forward and pulls the container of larb closer while the heads turn towards Michelle and Harry.

“So, MJ, you said before that you wanted to tell us something?” May asks.

“R-Right. Uh ...” Michelle falters nervously, shuffling a little closer to Harry. He leans in and whispers something into her ear, whatever it is making her giggle softly before looking towards everyone. “So, Harry and I ...”

From underneath the table they lift their held hands up and lay it down on the surface, with hers on top. But all Peter could find himself looking at was the sparkling diamond sticking out from the shiny golden band on her ring finger.

“We're getting married.”

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

AN: As a quick heads up, the next chapter will involve some Endgame spoilers. If it’s up quickly, then I’ll post a warning at the start of the chapter. 

Please feel free to let me know what you think; constructive criticism, thoughts, anything. And feel free to just hit me up for a chat if you want. I’ll try to get the next chapter up as quickly as I can. Until then, adios!