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#any other volume setting the number doesnt matter
ladyshinga · 11 months
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Mental illness is actually so funny sometimes, it'll have you catchin yourself feeling proud that you've managed to listen to your computer volume at numbers that are not obsessively divisible by 5
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carpe-astra · 2 years
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Six Degrees of Keven Church
The Docks: A boat owned by Charles Crumby
Keven Church ::so, there's a boat. a rickety fishing boat. slightly green. or it would be if the paint wasnt chipping off. the name of the boat…who remembers? maybe something like Pearl's Promise. or Jack's Grundle. it's not like the fisherman who owns it is around enough these days to care as it sways back and forth innocuously in its docking station. or whatever REAL sailor's call it. especially late at night ::
Spektor Iocaine ‡There is a boat, and there is a woman, and the night is still fairly young as the woman made her way along the pier with quiet steps drowned by the susurrus murmur of waves. She had watched from nearly the moment the sun had sunk below the horizon, waiting to see if there would be any change. Not that there had been, which had prompted her to near the little boat and climb aboard. If he was there, perfect. If not, she could snoop.‡
Keven Church ::inside isn't much different. loose papers that don't actually say anything. some weathered maps of land, sea, and stars. a few odds and ends that an old man might collect. you know, just to remember the good old days. but nothing too personal. otherwise, a clean interior. but empty of any living thing. or unliving… near the helm, there is a sort of old radio set up::
Spektor Iocaine ‡Finding little that could be deemed useful, Spektor set everything back to rights as she had found it, reluctant to leave much evidence of her being there at all. Eventually finding herself near the radio, which goes through a short inspection. Then she clicks it on, hovering at the volume button to turn it down immediately if it was violently loud. A lesson learned from Lemaigne's vehicles.‡
Keven Church :: there is nothing at first. then static. it crackles softly, alive on some other end in the unknown oblivion. then the static ends::
Spektor Iocaine ‡She had never interacted that much with Keven - if at all really - but there had always been the thought that he was much more clever than he let on. Had to be, if he had avoided being snagged by the Tremere for so long.‡ Mr. Church? I'd like a moment of your time, if that's you.
Keven Church :: more static….:: ::then finally……………a heavy breath:: Who d'a feck are ye? An' what are y'doin in m'feckin' boat? ::he sounds a bit drunk. just slightly tipsy::
Spektor Iocaine ‡Maybe he was thinking over whether or not to answer. Or there was no one at all. She hoped it was the former, but she wouldn't have been surprised if it was the latter. Just when she was just about to give up, the heavy breath put her back into focus.‡ You may not remember, but my name is Spektor Iocaine. I work with Miss Kára and Mr. Bellerose. And I am on your boat because I have been trying to find you, in order to discuss a few matters.
Keven Church :: she would have heard his laugh if he'd bothered to press the button when he did so. but people dont do that when theyre genuinely laughing at something they find surprising. or stupid. unless they're fucking anime villains or something:: Yer f'rgettin' someone. ::fingers snap:: Dat blonde lass widda pinched face. Cunt. Ye work widdem blood pricks too. Bloody blood pricks. ::a brief awkward pause before:: Feck off. ::is added on at the very end. just in case she doesnt get the hint::
Spektor Iocaine ‡She doesn't deign to respond to the first part, instead settling back to relax while they spoke. The blood pricks were the important part here, at any rate.‡ There are a great number of things I'd prefer to be doing with my time right now, Mr. Church, but unfortunately, 'fucking off' is not one of the options I get to have. ‡A pause, considering her words before continuing.‡ I can understand your reluctance to even speak with us given what you know. But I can explain if you're willing to listen.
Keven Church Boo feckin' hoo. ::is the muttering response to her clever comment about having more important things to do. it tells him 1) he's not a significant pawn in whatever her gang's agenda is, and 2) she thinks by making him believe he's not a significant pawn that he's safe from whatever intentions she has toward approaching him tonight. mother fuckers:: Explaaaaaiiiiin. I'll be fartin inna wind while ye do. ::silence. her turn to speak::
Spektor Iocaine ‡She couldn't help but to smile.‡ Despite our working relationship with the blood pricks, we have no intentions on turning you over to them, first and foremost. Secondly, we only have a working relationship with them due to a circumstance in which their Scourge was held in the basement of Embraced for quite some time, being… questioned. ‡Adding inflection and tone to indicate the questioning hadn't been the most gentle.‡ Because of that, it seemed prudent to create that working relationship, rather than allow him to try and hunt us. ‡Straight and honest with the man, rather than trying to lead him around with her words. She presumed he might appreciate the clarity more.‡
Keven Church ::as one who is hunted by a Scourge, the very same Scourge in fact, certainly he can understand the need to work things out in a civil manner. desperate measures and all that. there's a long, presumably pondering silence without any static at all. just Spektor standing or sitting or leaning all alone with her side of the radio, waiting::
::then, once again:: Ye still dealin' widda't spooksy magic cunt?
Spektor Iocaine ‡She's taken to sitting, perhaps in some rickety old chair that Keven himself had sat in a time or two. Comfortable with the silence, though her thoughts wander. Parsing through everything she's said thus far, and hoping it would be enough. His final question is what made her realize why Dixie had liked him so much.‡ We are. But I do not think it will be much longer, in truth. We've already begun to corner her.
Keven Church ::this time he does deliberately laugh into the radio. just one, simple:: HAH. ::a few clicks:: Good luck widda't. Hells ye needs me fer den?
Spektor Iocaine ‡Kára had never made her privy to the why but Spektor had her own theories. Most of them were likely ones that Keven would laugh at, just has he had just now.‡ It is my belief that Miss Kára has seen you to be instrumental in one of her visions, in handling the Tremere and neutering them, if not removing their influence entirely. And frankly, you being receptive to showing up when we ask does a great deal in the face of a Scourge who was incapable of finding you in the first place. No?
Keven Church ::there's a very loud:: PBBBBBBBT! ::a grown ass man blowing a raspberry:: Aye. Ye gots a point. Fer a dumb hoor. Ah'll….t'ink 'bout it. Jus' keep yer crazy cunt blondes off'a me.
Spektor Iocaine ‡It's rather loud in the otherwise silent area, but she lets him get it out of his sytem. Her lips curl in, before releasing them.‡ I do try. And that's all I ask for now, Mr. Church. Is that you at least think about it. Perhaps you could stop in sometime as well, and I will make the promise that no one of ours will stop you if you decide to leave. I'll do my best about the blondes, as well.
Keven Church ::there's another breath. then the static ends. for good this time. Spektor has been dismissed in as much a way as the salty dhampir can achieve::
Spektor Iocaine ‡She lingered for some time, just in case, listening to the lap of waves against the hull of the boat as it drifted. When the static doesn't return for a time, she concludes it over. Only hoping she had said enough of the right things to bring him around for whatever real purpose the Elder Gangrel needed him for. Spektor set the chair back right, clicked the radio off, and then departed from the boat to make her way towards Embraced for the evening, and update Kára.‡
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wolfsrainrules · 5 years
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Have you heard about the theory where Midoriya's dad is Endeavour's lil bro? Because if it isn't too much, could you do headcanons about good!dad!enji and husashi with their kids? You don't have too if ya don't want to ^^. Also, have a great day/night you beautiful baby uwu
I HAVE in fact, read exactly one (1) fic like that, a long time ago. I cannot remember the name, but I remember thinking “OH NO THATS NEAT” Thank you! I’m having a good time tonight (early morning its like 3am). @north-peach when you see this later, i figured you’d like to add on XD
–Enji brought Hisashi to every single ultra sound for his four kids. 
–In fact, the day he found out about his first kid, he barreled to his brother’s house, still holding the preg test in hand, and kicked the door down to yell about being a father and waving the stick around like an idiot.
He accidentally set his brother’s couch on fire, and then had to tell his sister in law, why her couch was ash. 
Inko laughed so hard she cried.
(Enji replaced the couch that day)
–Inko then sat down and helped Enji pick out some gender neutral baby clothes (since they didn’t know the gender yet at the time) 
–Hisashi LOVES his nephews and niece and called Rei crazy for wanting to have ‘this lug’s kids’.
–Hisashi and Enji both sat the boys down, and explained about BOYS  and what they were going to do to them, when they finally noticed Fuyumi.
(Fuyumi was very confused at the time)
–Enji carried pictures of his kids in his wallet. Like….Hughes from FMA  level pictures.
–Hisashi, when he finds out about Izuku, loses his entire mind, screeches, accidentally breathes fire and sets the tablecloth on fire, yells at his wife “HOLD ON I GOTTA TELL ENJI”
scrambles for his phone, knocks into every piece of furniture in the way, and exhales smoke and embers the entire time.
He calls Enji- who is at work at the time, which Hisashi didn’t think about but usually does (Izu will get his analysis from his father in this AU) and Enji will answer in a panic b.c his lil brother is calling DURING WORK HOURS??–
and he literally yells into the phone as soon as he hears “Hisashi??” 
“HEY ENJI, YOURE GONNA BE AN UNCLE. IM HAVING A BABY” at full volume, like an excited child in a candy store with 200$,
–Enji loses his entire mind, mid patrol, and proceeds to yell, full volume like the idiot all Todoroki’s secretly are (or will be) for their family as a whole “I’M GOING TO BE AN UNCLE???!”
–its all over social media like 20secs after it leaves his mouth.
–Enji shows up, smoking, in hero costume, having FLOWN HIMSELF OVER LIKE A FUCKING ROCKET MAN, five mins later so he can freak out over this fact with his little brother in person and coo at Inko’s still flat stomach
–And then he realizes that this means future Izuku (unnamed at the time) is going to be born around the time future Shouto (also unnamed) is and proceeds to basically climb the room and screech into the void for five mins before he comes barreling back down like “THEY”RE GONNA BE BROTHERS HISASHI.”
—Toddler yrs are great. All the kids learn to play and have a blast with both brothers, and Enji and Hisashi have a literal BLAST trying to outdo each other during games of “Dragons” and such (b.c with a majority rule in fire quirks of course they do)
—Izuku proves to be very, very smart, Kacchan joins this group of protective fiery little monsters and they don’t put up with any of his shit even as tiny tots. So Kacchan gets an EARLY AS FUCK attitude adjustment and it changes everything.
–Izuku gets diagnosed as Quirkless.
–It doesnt slow any of them down. Enji and Hisashi just adjust plans for heroing quirkless, Enji goes on some MAJOR campains for Quirkless support and discrimination (which ripples down b.c he IS Number Two Hero, and his actions cause reactions) 
–The other boys and Fuyumi all help Izuku and Izuku who goes to school with Kacchan and Shouta has a Protection Squad that Dont Take No Shit
Not to mention Izu has been training with the Todoroki fam forever and he knows how to defend himself, so he ALSO dont take no shit
–Hisashi and Enji only have one kidnap attempt per child, and each of them end in fire and brimstone and screaming. And then Lawyer Mama Inko gets involved and the kidnappers family for four generations in both directions WEEPS.
–When the day comes that Shouto and Izu get taken, they get taken together.
–Enji and Hisashi get a text from Izuku, thats basically just “CODE HELLFIRE” which is basically “Hey, um, kidnapping in progress!!”
–As each child had grown, they had all helped with the proceeding child’s “Code Hellfire” (named such b.c thats what they’d all bring down on the kidnappers) and now they taken the BABIES of the family AT THE SAME TIME.
The entire Todoroki family rampages across the city together for this one, Inko sitting like a queen at a control center, hooked into the entire mess via cameras at her brother-in-law’s agency, calling shots and being TERRIFYING the way we all know she can be
An entire villain gang BURNS for this.
By the time they get there, Izu and Shouto have already freed themselves, and were mid-escape.
Izuku punched Enji in the face.
Enji was so proud he got his nephew ice cream
Hisashi laughed so hard he cried, b.c Izu BROKE Enji’s nose, and then FLIPPED him over his shoulder before he realized it was his uncle and stopped the rest of the instinctive follow through. 
Shouto tried to freeze Hisashi to the wall, but Hisashi reflexively melted it with fire before it worked, though it almost didn’t b.c Shouto has been training his ice with QUITE A FEW FIRE USERS HIS ENTIRE LIFE
–Hisashi is an underground hero btw. Just gonna toss that out there b.c that idea gives me l i f e. And presents the chance for AIZAWA TO BE A FAMILY FRIEND AND PREFERRED BABYSITTER 
and dadzawa shenanigans form the start.
Plus shouta MELTING over these tiny babies, who wrapped their TINY HANDS around his fingers, and try to grab his capture scarf, or his hair. 
who smiled tiny gummy smiles at him and told him “love you uncle sho” 
who do clumsy attempts at braiding his hair with chubby child fingers and show up dressed like him b.c hes a favorite hero no matter what.
AND Shouta can help his problem child with quirkless fighting
–Oh BOY when All Might chooses Izu he’s gonna face a WALL of “Hey um what the FUCK are you doing to my BABY (brother/nephew/son)
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dalsethel · 7 years
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Hybrid: first bit
So... figured i’d post this here. I’m an amateur writer, and i honestly wasn’t sure where else to put it. @probablyhybridrpgideas, HERE IT IS!
All was quiet in my room. The predawn darkness was comforting, as were the sheets wrapped around my body. Then, my alarm clock went off. No matter how low I turned the damn things volume it always made my ears feel like they were on fire. Blessings of being an elf. I glared at the red numbers for a second before slamming my hand on the off button. Something looked off about my arm, but I couldn't quite place it. I dragged myself out of bed slowly, reluctant to leave the warm covers. It was winter, and i’d made the dumbass choice to not put on pjs after my evening shower. The cold air gave me goosebumps everywhere. I walked over to my dresser, pulling out a set of undies, not caring if the pieces matched. No one would see anyways. I noticed the dim light catching strangely all the way down my outer thigh and shin. Quickly fastening my bra in place, I walked over and turned my rooms light on. Darkvision can only do so much. It took a painful second for my eyes to adjust, and when they did… I was expecting that maybe i’d somehow gotten soap dried on to my leg, or that i was just imagining things. I was not expecting to have grown a thin coating of blueish-silver scales on my legs. I gasped and stumbled back, no idea what i was hoping to accomplish. Then I saw my arms. The scales covered the back of my hands and my forearms like a pair of gloves, continuing up to my shoulders, leaving the flesh closest to my torso exposed. I slowly turned and looked at my full body mirror. The scales covered about as much as video game female armor. I could have walked around buck naked and just looked like I was wearing a skimpy jumpsuit. Scales traced my brow, the ridge of my nose, my eyelids, thinner, more translucent ones coating my cheeks and forehead. My eyes were the same silver they’d always been, but the pupils were like triangles pointing down. I couldn't help it. “MOOOOOOOM!?”
A few minutes later I was downstairs, sitting across the table from my mom, holding a mug of hot chocolate. “Oh Brei… where do I begin? I mean, i'm sure you might have figured bits of it out but… Corellon, I never thought this would happen.” My mom sighed. I had actually figured a bit out. I’d never known my dad. Mom had always said he’d been stronger than any elf, and that wanderlust had taken him from us. “Argentum was… he was a dragon. Not the kind you tend to read about in stories, the ones that always hurt and hoard and burn. He was a metallic. A silver. His kind protect us from the chromatics.” I could feel my stomach churn just a little bit. It was one thing with a human, but how would you… I mean, the size… and they were like, animals…
“How…?’’ I gestured helplessly.
“When we met he was in a different form. He looked just like any other elf. He remained that way until he left.” That… sorta explained it. “Brei, I know you’re confused. Anyone with unusual heritage is when they find out. I wasn’t expecting this to happen either. You showed no signs for so long… but that doesnt mean I wasn't prepared. How do you feel about getting your ears pierced?” I stared at her. Where did that come from?
“Uh… sure? I mean, i’m good with it but… why?” I internally facepalmed. I can talk just fine upstairs, but everything that comes out of my mouth… just... grr. Speaking of my mouth… something felt off there too.
My mom chose that moment to start talking again. “I had an earring made to hide any potential… beauty marks. I figured if they happened you would like to keep them hidden until you got adjusted.” The words didn't really register. I was too busy feeling out my mouth with my tongue. The tongue itself felt thinner, rougher, more maneuverable. I was also fairly certain my teeth were sharper. All of them, not just my canines. I stuck out my tongue, cringing a little bit at the long, forked sliver of flesh that came out. More came out than I intended and I quickly retracted it. Some deep part of me wondered what Val would think. “Brei, hello? Anyone home?” I quickly looked up at my mom. She looked extra concerned. “I saw that look. You’re worried about something.” She stared into my eyes, the emerald green seeming to expand slightly. “Anything or anyONE you want to tell me about?” I winced. Val and I had been dating three months and I had yet to tell mom we were anything more than friends. Damn mom radar.
“Well… you know Val, the drow i’ve brought over a couple of times? We’re… sorta…” She looked at me with slight disapproval. “Dating.” She stared at me witheringly and I shrunk back in my seat.
“Brei… you know our kinds relationship with drow. They slaughtered us by the THOUSANDS! Being friends is one thing but DATING!?” I shrunk back further. Suddenly her expression softened, the anger slipping away to reveal a slight smile. “Well, if that doesn't testify changing times, I don't know what does.” Waves of confusion washed over me. She was ok with it? But what was the…? Oh.
“Mom… you really need to stop messing with me like that. No-one finds it funny but you.” She smiled unrepentantly. I glared at her, feeling my eyes adjust in ways they hadn't before. She refused to back down, instead casually looking at the clock.
“Well, if you don't want to be any later to school, you best get dressed and let me take care of your ear.” She moved her hand through the motions of a conjuration and a slim needle of energy appeared. I stood and walked over. She stood and turned my head sideways before gently slipping the needle through my earlobe. I felt her slip the stud in, felt the slight tingle of illusion magic wash over me. It felt cold and vaguely wet. Mom smiled at me. “I decided to leave the eyes. Now, go get dressed, unless you want to make a major fashion statement at school.” I looked down at the mismatched graphic shirt and sweatpants i’d put on. Val had bought me the shirt as a joke. “My girlfriend worships Lolth” was emblazoned in red paint over the black cloth, replete with a graphic of an elven profile.  I cringed internally. That probably tipped off the relationship to mom. I needed somewhere different to put that. I ran upstairs and pulled out some jeans. I looked in the mirror. The shirt fit nicely. It would probably look good with my leather jacket.... I decided to keep it on, quickly changing into the jeans and grabbing said jacket. What a rebel I was. I looked over at the mirror, making sure the earring worked fully. Just as mom said, it left the eyes untouched. I quickly grabbed a comb and straightened out my hair- which, now that I knew about my heritage, the blue color made a little more sense- put on some socks and my boots and raced downstairs.
There was a slight uneasiness in the car as we drove to my school. I could tell mom was worried, probably thinking about how I might be judging her life choices. She worries about stuff like that despite being a couple centuries old. Last month was her 250th birthday, a big thing for us elves. 150 years of being considered a full adult isn't anything to sniff at. Granted, legally we’re adults at 18, same as everyone else, but the old traditions still apply in most circles. As we pulled up to the drop off point, she sighed. “Be careful Brei. We don't know what else has changed. Worst comes to worst… try not to land yourself a murder or assault charge.” I looked at her. She was genuinely worried about me accidentally killing someone? No matter how strong you are, it’s hard to kill someone accidentally without the use of a weapon or magic, and both of those were hard to use accidentally. Granted, in the case of the latter, sorcerers were a thing that happened every now and then. Was she implying i might be a sorcerer? “Brei, it’s not getting any earlier.” Oh shit.
“Oh, right, byemomiloveyou!” I practically flew out the car door and up to the school doors. Ooh… flying… I was part dragon, maybe i’d develop wings. Wait a minute, since when was I getting used to this? And wouldn't having wings make getting dressed and stuff kinda hard? I pushed the door open and went into the front office. A human teen with dusky skin was manning the time stamp. He looked over at me, clearly bored.
“Third period.” he stamped a pass and handed it to me. I nodded to him and ran towards the F- section of the school. The school is pretty well organized. Each section was a letter of the alphabet, A on the east side of the school through F on the west side, 100’s on bottom, 200’s on top. Third period was an elective for me, Gods in our Time. It mostly went over the ways all the ancient gods like Lolth and Corellon had changed since the middle ages. Today we were supposed to cover the circumstances of the treaty drow had made with everyone else- which happened recently enough that there were black and white photographs of all three of the gods involved. I made it to the end of the hall, made a right turn, and flung open the door, just as the start of class bell rang. Val was sitting in her usual spot at the back of the class, keeping a spot open. I quickly took it. She looked at me oddly.
“Why’re you in such a rush? More importantly, where were ya this morning? I didn’ see ya in the library.” She had the oddest drawl, probably from watching too many westerns. I personally found it cute, but some of the teachers found it annoying. I looked at her.
“I uh… had some family stuff to take care of. Sorry I missed our usual meetup.” She narrowed her eyes at me- quite a vibrant shade of purple- before relaxing.
“Jus’ don't do it again, ‘less it’s important stuff.” She smiled warmly- not easy for a drow to pull off.
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i was gonna say that in addition to other sciencey concepts of how things arent unimportant just because they incorporate like 1-10% of a group, eg how roughly 98% of the universe is hydrogen and helium. and even better than that, how it seems like the observable/known shit in the universe is potentially only 5% of the makeup of the universe but the rest is possibly dark matter / dark energy? which makes non-dark matter non-hydrogen/helium elements equal to 0.001% of the matter in the universe, which seems pretty negligible, but its also everything thats not just a radiation blasting orb hurtling around the void
but anyways my "even more negligible" number was gonna be how atoms are about 99.9999999999996% empty space. 4 ten trillionths of one single percent is not just empty space. which is about as negligible as it can get. and, actually, might be negigible, because modern physics doesnt even really have a definition of matter, because it isnt a universal concept in that realm and isnt considered fundamental. like, how in this exact example, atomic particles might just be point particles that have no volume. like, forget the model of the atom because while the nucleus is definitely just sitting there, electrons are generally treated as more of a field? and while the electron is going to be in one point in space at any time, there's no way to know what point its in at any time, and really no practical reason to need to know. electrons can be considered a quantitative fluctuation in a electric field. like, every subatomic particle is a fluctuation in a field, every force carrier and energy packet and building block of a bigger particle is a quantitative fluctuation. everything is a field of numbers. and math is pretty wild too, there's set theory? its pretty wild stuff. i wish i knew it better but i know kinda that at its most basic level its saying that numbers are nothing more than groups of equivalent things. two seahorses. everything has to be measured into numbers via standardized, comparable units. 9 picograms. 818 miles. without the seahorses, picograms, and miles, there are no numbers. i know that sounds pretty basic but set theory is like, out there fucking up stuff in math thats supposed to be fuckupable, and the thing about math is that when you say something equals something you really mean it, and if zero fucks up your whole equation then you have to throw it out. or rather, probably tweak it. or at least figure out why it doesnt work. idk. i'm not a mathematician or a physicist and i dont know set theory or much about quantum mechanics, but everything is made up of fields, and fields are basically numbers, and numbers are only definable via comparison, so all of existence is made up of "its relative"
edit oh yeah i should mention that set theory is not accepted as like a fundamental theory for all of math. the thing about theories is that they can only ever be theories, which is pretty awesome. and then you get to have math fights about if set theory is fundamentally wrong or not. the point is, i didnt even need to bring it up, i just thought of it. everything is still totally made up of the fundamental units of numbers though and you can quote me on that 1000% anywhere anytime for certain until the andromeda flings us out of our galaxy and then the sun dies
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viralhottopics · 7 years
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‘Ghost Recon: Wildlands’ review: Ambitious but poorly executed
Ghost Recon: Wildlands isnt just an open world game its a daunting expanse of unrealized potential.
SEE ALSO: 5 tips you’ll want to know before you start ‘Ghost Recon: Wildlands’
At first blush, Ghost Recon: Wildlands is a mesmerizing experience. The rocky hills in Itacua, the first province in the game, create a beautiful, treacherous landscape that is glorious to behold. But Wildlands quickly reveals itself as a husk, devoid of any life or meaningful story, with more veneer than actual substance.
A good start to the story breaks bad quickly
Wildlands narrative starts off compellingly enough. You play as a Ghost Recon operator, call-sign Nomad, in the wild lands of Bolivia, under the CIAs Operation Kingslayer. Your mission is to clear out the Santa Blanca cartel and rid Bolivia of its narco-state ties. But it isnt long before you discover the myriad flaws and plotholes that run rampant throughout the games latter half.
Yuri and Polito, the first provinces buchones (minibosses), were a fascinating pair to track down. Their cringe-inducing talk of necrophilia was enough to motivate me along the missions that would lead to their inevitable execution. Unfortunately, Yuri and Politos end was one of the only satisfying story conclusions in the game.
Everything in Wildlands takes place in an open world, which means that the buchones can be taken down in any particular order. Which sounds great until youre stuck in choice paralysis. I got so overwhelmed by the sheer volume of provinces to explore and buchones to execute that I began to resent the cartel map and its execution targets. Ten hours after starting the game, its repetitive nature and tone deaf narrative caught up with me.
The deeper Wildlands thready narrative gets, the more stale the ideas feel. Its flaws start with inconsistencies in the story but completely unravels when yet another cinematic rewrites a major plot point. But it was the ending both of them that was the worst offense. Not only is Wildlands narrative conclusion a massive letdown in terms of tension and story resolution, its treatment of drug trafficking and cartels is appallingly ignorant and still somehow heavy-handed.
Theres a way to handle those themes that doesnt rely on stereotypes or tired tropes. The Mafia games, especially the most recent installment in the series, provides a far more nuanced perspective of what it means to run a large drug operation. Lincoln Clay, Mafia 3s protagonist, and his gang leaders feel tangible, believable. Wildlands couldnt decide whether to be serious or satirical, evident by its bombastic characters that felt too ridiculous to be taken seriously, even if that was the purpose. Wildlands is a poignant reminder that painting broad strokes on top of existing real world issues is not the way to tell a compelling story.
Sniping is everything and your drone is your only friend
Story isnt always necessary to enjoying a game but, sadly in this case, Wildlands misses the mark almostall the way across the board. Thankfully, between decent gunplay, enjoyable long-range combat, and a drone that has more personality than anyone else on your squad, it manages to claw its way back to mediocrity.
The gunplay is mediocre in comparison to any number of third person shooters, including Ubisofts own The Division, mostly because the contextual cover system is twelve ways to ridiculous. The cover system is unreliable, accounting for at least a third of my deaths it was hard to stay fully protected because there was little indication as to what was considered true cover and what was only a cosmetic hiding spot. The latter obscured my line of sight but didnt give me any protection from enemy fire. But in spite of the unintuitive cover system and the shrug-worthy gunplay, there were a handful of moments that made the game worth playing.
The long-range snipe is where Wildlands really shines. There isnt much to shooting from the hip, even after youve put points into that particular skill. But the shots I made with my eye down the barrel or through a high-powered rifle scope were often the most exhilarating they challenged me to think tactically, rather than just react to the environment. The quick audible feedback, followed by the target dropping out of his sniper tower when the shot struck true from 300 meters away (regardless of whether or not it alerted the enemy to my position) was often the best part of beginning an encounter.
The majority of the game is played at long range, so moments like this are fairly frequent, which means theres a lot of fist-pumping along the way.
Sadly, the only things that your AI squad is good for are fist-bumping one another in background chatter and soaking up sicario bullets. The background information on Holt, Midas, and Weaver indicates that they have special roles within the team. Unfortunately, those roles arent realized within gameplay. Youre still the one laying C4 charges and blowing up trucks full of coke, even though you have a demolitions expert in the squad. So, while its easier to play stealth-heavy missions with the AI (as their presence doesnt alert enemies), theyre little more than meat shields in the heat of battle.
Your drone, however, is your constant companion. In most altercations with either UNIDAD, the military police, or the cartel, the drone was the only way I stayed alive. Flying it (while safely in cover, of course) allowed me to mark targets, blow up a group of enemies, distract another group, and even revive a teammate remotely. My drone was my in-game bestie the only thing that kept us apart was a drone jammer and I always, always dealt with those first.
Vast spaces too empty for their own good
From breathtaking vistas to lush jungle rivers all the way to desolate salt flats, Wildlands has constructed a collection of incredible landscapes to explore. While Bolivias existence as a narco-state is a work of fiction, the environment is as close to real life as you can get without hopping on a plane (or three). Its a joy to ride a dirt bike around the early provinces, capturing shots of sunrises and twinkling stars, but the world is otherwise empty.
Strangely, the more you explore, the more overwhelming the world feels, in spite of the desolation in the environment. It takes a long time to travel from mission to mission the roads and mountains are unforgiving and expansive. As you uncover more intelligence within each province, the TACMAP becomes the most unsavory place in the game. Without a way to filter, it devolves into a lumbering beast with a plethora of icons obscuring the map and making navigation a chore.
Open world games shouldnt be daunting. Rockstar and 2K Games both managed to create open worlds that dont feel like youre drowning in them. So why didnt Ubisofts land?
Outside of the cartel hit list, Wildlands does very little to acknowledge progression. Theres the odd soundbite from DJ Perico, Santa Blancas propaganda-spouting mouthpiece, but there is nothing in the cinematics or the gameplay that recognizes the cartels destabilization. The videos from El Suenos perspective feel disjointed enough that its hard to believe that any part of the cartels operations are aware of one another. Story progression felt like a checklist of requirements rather than the interwoven narrative that it could have been.
Crackdown tackled a similar structure to Wildlands, but integrated the gang leaders executions into both the story and the gameplay. Each gang leader that you took out led to the decreased effectiveness of the gang itself. Taking out a particular leader could mean that enemies began to carry pistols instead of assault rifles; or typically well-defended hideouts would see their numbers drastically decreased. Sometimes, you had to fight certain leaders first before you could even think about tackling some of the games bigger fights.
Wildlands gives the player full reign of what to do and where to go next a true open world experience. But as I progressed through the game, it didnt feel like my actions impacted the game. It was a matter of finishing out a set of missions in order to get to the next set of missions, in order to maybe get the hint of a story. Crackdown, on the other hand, demonstrated through both gameplay and narrative how important it was to be tactical and strategic about the order of execution.
Huge, open world games need diverse soundscapes
Wildlands requires a lot of point A to point B travel but doesnt offer much in the way of companionship. Your options are either to listen to your squad mates drone on, or to endure the same two songs that play on the radio over and over again until youre fairly certain that you are, in fact, in hell. The combination of the two work to create an aggravating experience in between the major story beats.
Theres some satisfaction in looping through the terrain in order to pick up the plethora of meaningful collectibles, but even that wears thin.
Theres a hollowness to how your Ghost, call-sign Nomad, interacts with their squad mates. While Nomad perks up with comments about the mission every once in awhile, Midas, Weaver, and Holt are usually silent. The intermittent broisms including various musings about sex with twenty-two-year-olds and snorting coke to cope with altitude sickness cement how vacuous the game presents its operators. Granted, its a Tom Clancy game and exaggeration is usually the order of the day, but the dialogue writing feels downright lazy after more than a couple of hours with the squad.
There are only so many times a person can hear this medal has a coca leaf on it, thats kinda cool before they are driven to summoning an Elder God in order to end all existence.
Despite its best efforts, Wildlands can still be fun (with friends)
Somehow, out of the cocktail of mediocrity that the game serves up, Wildlands still manages to be kind of fun in partnered co-op. Hopping into a party, bantering with friends and taking down sicarios is pretty much the only way to enjoy playing the game.
With the exception of the day/night cycle, the entire multiplayer experience was disjointed. Weather conditions, radio audio, and incidental chatter was delivered locally, rather than synced across all players in a session. It could be a torrential downpour in my instance of the game while the sun was shining brightly in yours. But in spite of that, the multiplayer experience is what initially sold me on the game.
Cooperative play set a tactical atmosphere that solo play missed. While AI squad mates wandered around of their own accord, getting in the way of my tactical plans, real-life companions and I were able to coordinate our efforts more explicitly.
Everything except stealth missions were easier with human players because we had specialized our Ghosts skill trees. My co-op partners skillset was best suited for vehicle combat, so he often drove. My Ghost was far better at reconnaissance, so I would scout ahead with my drone, marking targets and blowing up small groups of sicarios along the way.
Were not booking a return trip to Bolivia anytime soon
Ghost Recon: Wildlands is an enormous departure from what makes Ghost Recon a reputable tactical squad-based shooter franchise. Beyond narrative fluff, the three AI Ghosts are indistinguishable from one another. Gone are the series staple of individual commands for squad members and the teams specialized skills in favor of a trite story with an empty, repetitive world. The mish-mash of ambitious, poorly executed ideas detract from what could have made the game truly great.
Sniping is a lot of fun. And roaming the gorgeous Bolivian landscape is absolutely breathtaking, no matter which province you find yourself in. But Wildlands myriad missteps are experiential landmines that blow up in your face in almost every province, with immersion and enjoyment suffering as collateral damage.
Amanda Farough has been writing about video and tabletop games for a number of years. Her tastes are eclectic and varied, with a love for strategy and action. You can find her on Twitter at @amandafarough, where she is likely shipping her Overwatch main, D. Va, and Lucio. You can also find her previous work at her personal site.
Read more: http://on.mash.to/2oysKUY
from ‘Ghost Recon: Wildlands’ review: Ambitious but poorly executed
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fakemcmbelt · 6 years
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viralhottopics · 8 years
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Mediterranean Diet May Protect Your Brain In Old Age, New Finding Suggests
Amid the contention about diets and detoxes, sugar and fats, there is at least general agreement that a Mediterranean diet fruit, vegetables, olive oil, grains, fish is a good thing. Now, a new study based on brain imaging in over 400 people seems to show that we have even more reason to celebrate this diet and, more importantly, to stick to it. The researchers found that over a three-year period from the age of 73 to 76 adherence to a Mediterranean diet is associated with a reduction in the inevitable loss of brain volume that occurs with age.
The difference in volume loss associated with the diet is not large about 2.5ml (half a teaspoon) and it only accounts for a very small fraction of overall volume variability. But, whos to say what you might achieve with that extra half teaspoon of brain? If these results prove reliable, there is surely an incentive to stock up on family-sized bottles of olive oil.
We already have evidence that the Mediterranean diet, and particularly higher fish and lower meat consumption, is associated with increased brain size. But its hard to interpret associations between lifestyle and the brain because a causal relationship is equally credible in both directions. That is to say, if I eat healthily and have a big brain, it might be that my diet is good for my brain or my big brain is good at helping me maintain my diet. Or there may be something that I havent measured, something that influences my brain and my diet separately. For example, if I live a comfortable, affluent, stress-free life perhaps this is simultaneously good for my brain and facilitates my healthy diet. If so, finding a healthy association between diet and a big brain does not mean that they are directly related.
The brain inevitably shrinks with age. gmstockstudio/Shutterstock.com
These are critical considerations. Citing evidence to support lifestyle changes demands that one knows the precise lifestyle changes needed and what the precise benefits may be. This is why randomised control studies are so appealing. If you have two well-matched groups, subject them two controlled dietary interventions, and do a before and after analysis, you are on firmer ground when asserting that the dietary intervention has had a direct role in producing the changes.
While the researchers in this latest study did not carry out a randomised trial, however, they have nevertheless provided important insights by gathering repeat data, allowing them to compare brain size not in terms of absolute values but of changes across time.
At age 70, participants gave a detailed report on their dietary habits. On this basis, they could be characterised as high and low in their adherence to a Mediterranean diet. Three years later, they had a baseline brain scan and, a further three years afterwards, brain changes from this baseline were assessed with a second brain scan, so every participant served as their own control. This is a powerful approach and, as well as using the initial scans to confirm that brain volume is indeed greater in people who follow the Mediterranean diet more closely, they determined that, between the ages of 73 and 76 years, there was a greater loss of brain volume for those with low adherence to the diet. This remained significant when taking into account a number of highly relevant factors relating to age, sex, health, body weight, education and aspects of psychological functions.
Interpret with caution
These findings are consistent with the heartening possibility that the right diet has a genuine impact on brain tissue loss. But the authors are cautious, and rightly so. To begin with, their results are not entirely consistent with previous studies of the diets effects on the brain. They failed to find, for example, previously-observed effects of higher fish and lower meat consumption. It becomes hard to know whether it is the diet as a whole or specific components of it that could exert the positive effect on brain volume.
The analysis also shows that cognitive function did not significantly differ across the diet styles, raising the question of just how useful it might be to alter brain loss at this scale.
Also, as the researchers acknowledge, they carried out several statistical tests looking for significant associations ones that have a low p-value (the probablility of finding this difference when there is not a true difference in brain size) and from this they found the reduction in brain loss. But if you take all of these searches into account, picking out a significant association (brain volume) from non-significant ones (for example, a lack of change to the volume of grey matter), you increase your chances of accidentally attributing significance to something that occurs just by chance.
Although the authors have made nice attempts in their design and analysis in ruling out potentially complicating factors, there is still necessarily an ambiguity over cause and effect here. They previously showed in another study that an apparent relationship between Mediterranean diet and later-life cognitive functions could actually be accounted for by childhood IQ.
While the current analysis ruled out a similar explanatory role of a more constrained IQ measure and of a set of tests of mental function, we must bear in mind the possibility that there are other factors, unaccounted for here, that could separately relate to dietary adherence and brain volume and would therefore produce an illusion of a dietary influence on brain. For example, its not clear whether excessive alcohol consumption might associate with a non-Mediterranean diet. Or perhaps levels of physical activity could also play a part.
But, at the same time, there are reasons why this finding that adherence to a Mediterranean diet results in less brain loss in the elderly may be even stronger than the numbers show. Participants were split according to the general style of their diet. So some in the high and low diet groups would actually have been quite near the mid-point and so less likely to show strong effects. One might imagine that, if you took two groups who more purely exemplified the Mediterranean and non-Mediterranean diets, there could be even bigger effects on brain volume. We shall see. In any case, keep eating the legumes. Even if it turns out that the Mediterranean diet doesnt stop your brain from shrinking, there are still plenty of other benefits to be had.
Paul Fletcher, Bernard Wolfe Professor of Health Neuroscience, University of Cambridge
This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.
Read more: http://bit.ly/2j1QeyH
from Mediterranean Diet May Protect Your Brain In Old Age, New Finding Suggests
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