#Screen Design

[elevanetheirin]

After discussing my previous capstone project with the instructor and my Senior Advisor we came to the conclusion that what I plan to do is Promotional and Merchandise Design. As such my project has changed slightly, I am creating promotional materials for a video game currently in production (yes, a real Indie game) If you could take a moment and respond to my survey to help me get a good idea of what consumers want to see in promotional materials I would be ecstatic! Only one answer is required so feel free to only answer the ones you want to.

[codeandcanvas]

I’ve come to the next iteration of what I am doing, so let me write those things down.

I’ve worked through my digital library of graphic design pdfs. These pdfs were all acquired during my graphic design study, some even afterwards. All of these books (leaving out the ones I could neither obtain legally as a pdf, nor as a book, without seriously paying way too much) came from study material during my study.

And I have worked through three‑and‑a‑half semesters of reading material in preparation for what is next: me reading all these books.

To make this work in a way which helps me become the best graphic designer I can be, I have used Adobe Bridge to add keywords to these pdfs, with each class having its own keyword.

And there are books which are far more often referred to as in‑depth reading material than others: these I see as either very basic or very important, a difference which at this point makes little sense to make, I confess. Some of these books have four to six classes referencing them, while most belonging to one or two.

And what I think is fairly unique about my study at my alma mater is, that some books are required reading material, with sort of like a guide of which chapters to read. So I’ve marked those in Adobe Bridge with a rating of five stars, in order to easily find them.

With having said all of that, the next few weeks will be spent a little differently than the ones before this what I now realize is a milestone for me: now that I have created the order I need, I will spend more time on reading and applying the knowledge read, which in turn makes me return to an older system of keeping track in public of what I am doing­—to post less often.

I expect to change how I use my social media accounts in the future as well: to treat social media as a serious marketing tool for my own work. I think that will come with how serious I treat this process ahead of me.

And, you ask, what are these books I have mentioned?

They are about working scientifically, entrepreneurial management, online marketing, a book about visual information and communication, screen and interface design, a book about digital photography, media design, and finally a book about design foundations.

I think you can mix your own post‑degree study with these bits of information.

And sure enough, it has been a year since my degree, this is just the next thing I need to do in order to become an entrepreneur.

See you next time!

[magickpancakes]

love this silly goofy creatur, stoopid pish thing <3

[pvtpunsart]

last smash bros screen!! he did it!!!

"Hah-hahaha!! VICTORIOUS BLUSTER!"

[corrodedparadox]

I ❤️ MY ROTTWEILER

[stealingpotatoes]

Do you like any other video games? If so, do you like Zelda and whats ur favourite game?

i like LOTS of games!! i’ve only played a bit of BOTW but i got bored once i’d fully upgraded my house in that village and never defeated any of the divine beasts

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Ignorantia Neminem Excusat

(Ignorance excuses no one, lat.)

"Commissioner."

Jim Gordon doesn't jump. They are years and years into this rodeo, he's stopped actually jumping at Batman's silent approach a long time ago. Yet, Bruce still notices the way his shoulders twitch just the tiniest bit, and his hand makes an aborted motion to his gun holster. Still got it.

The man turns around. Bruce can see the 'must you always do that?' in his slightly narrowed eyes. He presses his lips tightly together in order to not smirk: Batman doesn't do that, even if it's admittedly funny to see the seasoned Commissioner get spooked every time.

"There's a kid that wants to speak with you."

Bruce frowns. A kid that warranted a BatSignal? Not that he minds, but this is highly unusual for several reasons; however, Jim is not the kind of man that would fall for puppy eyes of any level, so it must be something more important than an autograph session or a victim of any of the recent cases.

Besides, the way Commissioner worded it implies that the kid, whoever they are, requested Batman specifically.

"He is a hacker," Jim puts both his hands in the pockets of his coat — he is either cold or uncomfortable, and Bruce highly suspects it's both. What's more, he starts to understand why. "I'm sure you're aware we were trying to track the person responsible for the few recent cyber attacks on GCPD servers," Jim glances at him, and Bruce nods. He is aware, yes, but the case was low-priority — it wasn't even an attack, really, someone just accessed the system foregoing the passwords and clearance levels, went through a few files, seemingly at random, and did a fairly decent job of hiding their traces. Bruce would have even thought it was Tim, if this happened a few years ago, when the boy was just learning the ropes.

Commissioner sighs and looks away, "But when we brought him in, the boy said he will only speak to you, and none of us have been able to make him say a word since." He pauses, a grim kind of expression on his face, "This was six hours ago."

Bruce is grateful for the way his cowl hides how his eyebrows raise. There are hundreds of scripts officers, detectives, and social workers can use to establish contact. Quite a lot of them could be attempted in the span of six hours.

Whatever the kid wants to tell him, Bruce decides it's worth a try. If not anything else, he can at least admire the sheer stubbornness.

—×—×—×—

The kid sitting in the interrogation room looks... younger than Bruce expected. Fifteen, maybe sixteen. He is dressed like any other homeless kid in Gotham — a hoodie and a jacket over it, jeans that look a size too big on him, sneakers with mismatched shoelaces — but he clearly hasn't been out in the streets for that long. His hair is braided into cornrows, and it looks professional, even if the roots have grown out so now it's just messy. What's more, he is missing that telltale wariness in his posture that Bruce has seen in every other street kid that has been brought into a police station. They always slouch and curl into themselves.

This boy is sitting with his back straight. Yet, there's a tension in his body that Bruce can only associate with a battle stance — give him the slightest reason, and the kid will lunge.

He steps into the room.

The boy — he hadn't given a name, and there wasn't a single ID on him — zeroes on him instantly. His eyes are a very pale, almost translucent green: a rather strange feature for a black-skinned person, genetically speaking, but Bruce doesn't dwell on it. Yet.

But then, the face recognition program comes up empty.

As in, 'there's not a trace of this person's prior existence' empty. Not a single camera footage, no records or reports of missing, no pictures, no social media, nothing. Bruce frowns.

"Hi," the kid says, his voice raspy, "My name is Tucker Foley. According to the government, I don't exist, so if your recognition program doesn't find anything on me, that's why."

Bruce doesn't say anything. Tucker wanted to speak with him, and previously, he was only merely intrigued by that request. However, as of right now, he wants to hear everything the kid has to say before asking any follow-up questions.

Because that always present, cautious and bordering on paranoid voice in the back of his mind tells him he is about to get into something way more serious than he expected.

Tucker moves — he kept both his hands on the table, palms open and visible, but now he closes one into a fist. Although, before Bruce can react to it, he opens it again. A small, the size of a flash-drive, dimly glowing green object rests inside.

"Do you know what this is?" The boy asks. He hasn't looked away from Batman's face once; Bruce is not even sure he blinked at all since he entered the room. Come to think of it, even with his tense, rigid posture, Tucker is too still, almost unnervingly so.

Bruce glances down to the boy's hand.

"Yes," he answers curtly, and there it is, the smallest shift in Tucker's face: he clenches his jaw like he's trying to hold the words inside his mouth. Bruce doesn't like it.

"What is it?" Comes the next question, but it's not curiosity that prompts it. It's a test of some sort. Bruce likes that even less.

"A power source," he decides on a neutral answer, not entirely certain what the boy is expecting to hear.

It seems to be a wrong answer because for the first time, Tucker's emotions slip from under his mask, and he takes a sharp breath in, looking like Bruce had just slapped him across the face. It lasts only a moment — Tucker closes his eyes for a moment, slowly exhales, and speaks again, calm and focused once more.

"And what exactly powers it?"

It's an important question, judging by the desperate, searching look in Tucker's eyes. His hands are not shaking, and there are no visible signs of distress, but for some reason, Bruce just knows that the boy's whole life seems to depend on the answer.

But.

"It's classified." Bruce doesn't take his eyes off the boy, but he still fails to see when he gets to his feet; the movement is quicker than the blink of an eye. All he knows is the aftermath of it, the screech of the chair legs on the floor and the loud slam of Tucker's palms on the table.

"Fuck the classified!" The boy yells, his face twisting in an awful mix of anger, hurt and a broken, terrified sort of hopelessness that almost breaks Bruce from the inside. "I need to know what they've told you, I have to- Tell me you think it's just a battery! Tell me you've never broke one to see what's inside, tell me you believe in science! They've showed you the research, didn't they?" Tucker's voice, so agonizingly different from the composed way he was talking before, breaks into a sobbing, almost hysterical laugh. His pale eyes are wide open and almost panicked, searching Batman's face for something he is not sure he can find.

"Tell me you've never seen one being made," this time, the boy doesn't yell, he whispers, his breath hitching and his knuckles white. "Please," he adds a moment later, and Bruce knows this kind of plea.

It's the plea of someone who is begging for the world to have mercy on them. A plea of a boy standing on their parents' grave, a plea of a man kneeled in front of his son's corpse.

Bruce swallows the bitter taste on the back of his tongue and takes a step closer. He sees the boy in front of him lean back and bend his knees, like bracing for impact, but he answers before any more misunderstandings can occur.

"I have seen the research. It provided enough information that I've never investigated further," he offers, and Tucker's shoulders slump like months and months of living in a constant state of fight-or-flight leaving his body all at once. Then, the boy's hands start trembling just slightly.

"Really?" He quietly asks, his eyes still glued to Batman, and there it is, the hesitant, uncertain hint of hope in his voice.

Bruce suddenly feels like not only this talk will be much, much worse than he ever feared, but also like in the end this will be another one of the things he will be blaming himself for. Things he could have prevented if he just tried a little harder.

"Really," he nods, taking a seat opposite from Tucker. "So explain what I've missed."

The boy keeps looking at him for a few more seconds, like trying to x-ray his thoughts for any sign of a lie. But then he blinks — for the first time, maybe — and rubs his face with his palm before all but dropping back in his own seat.

"Okay," he breathes out, evidently trying to collect himself and go back to the strong, focused self, "Okay."

[ part 2 -> ]

[vintagehomecollection]

Southern Interiors, 1988

[statementlou]

[warakami-vaporwave]

Superaudio Matcha 83 (wallpaper version)

[nemkero]

uncle ekko

[soroka-vorona]

Hot gossip on the Nemesis

[debbie-sketch]

Twitch screen commission

[cheesecakewitch]

it's only love but, i think i taste blood 🩸

[lexcat-11]

R800: 2008 Model “Frutiger Aero”

Recalled in 2010 due to software issues (was made upset by artificial fish).

(silly drawing side project amidst school driving me insane 🩵🩵🩵)