#i only coded a little bit of the first puzzle myself and i am certain if a real programmer looked at it they'd be like 'wtf is this'

[futuresoon]

coding is terrible. i spent an hour trying to make three buttons and i still don't have it. don't talk to me about imagemaps

[pinkprimrose05]

GX Month Day 18: This Wasn't in the Rule Book

@gxmonth

Ao3 Version Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33473653/chapters/83310418

Why yes, it's prompt bending time! Wish this day came a bit later into the month so it was closer to the release date of Duel World ARC-V but, oh well, what can ya do? ...Oops, looks like I spoiled the chapter. Yes, this year's AU prompt also doubles as a celebration of ARC-V coming to Duel Links, and it's probably the one prompt I'm most excited to write because hoo boy I've been waiting for this moment for sooooo long! 8D

~~~~~

"Manual Reboot Successful. Initiate Sign-Up Process? "

..

"Initiating Sign-Up Process. Establishing Connection...Please Enter WORLD_ID."

..

"Response Recorded. Initiating Connection to WORLD_ID SERIES6..."

"..ERROR. Failed to Connect to WORLD_ID SERIES6. Continue Sign-Up Process and Retry?"

..

"Response Recorded. Continuing Sign-Up Process."

..

"Response Recorded. Aborting Connection to WORLD_ID SERIES6...Connection Aborted"

..

"...Sing-Up Process Completed. Initiating Log-In Sequence..."

..

..

..

"ERROR."

-----------

Yuuma sat by the river, waiting for something big to happen.

He knew he wasn't support to be there. Tour Guide hade explicitly told everyone to not get close to the Gate during new world maintenance, but being his curious self, he guiltlessly ignored the warning. Why? Because of the aforementioned new world, of course!

From what he knew about it -which wasn't much, but Juudai-senpai had been rambling about all the different Duelists, Decks and weird game mechanics that they might see for two weeks straight and that sort of gave him a general idea-, this new world thing was a pretty big deal in Duel Links, and with it being so covered up, Yuuma was all too hyped to see what it was like for himself, consequences be damned.

He'd tried world-switching to no avail, as he sebsequently found out that the game wasn't only staggering log-outs, it was also staggering travelling through Duel Worlds for however long he was stuck here. He'd tried asking everyone he knew about it over his D-Gazer too, but that didn't work, and neither did begging a sleepy Kaito to try and hack the game for more info..

..Which led back to him sitting by the river, kicking his legs back and forth as Emperor's Key swayed in the morning breeze, dangling from the string in his hand while he kept waiting, waiting, and waiting some more...

"Yuuma?"

"Eek!" The Xyz Duelist practically jumped five feet into the air upon hearing his name being called, thoughts racing in frantic circles as he turned to see someone approaching...then immediately relaxing when he realized exactly who that someone was.

"Three!"

Michael Arclight smiled, waving gently as he tottered to the river bank and sat down next to Yuuma, who sighed in relief at knowing he wasn't in grave trouble for getting caught near the Gate. The two traded greetings, then settled into silence as they gazed at the horizon, at the clear sky and rising sun of their Duel World's landscape. If it were him, Michael would be content with just staying like that and admiring the view, but the ball of excitement next to him wasn't about to share that sentiment anytime soon.

"Sooooooo..." Yuuma began "What are you gonna do today?"

"Hm? What do you mean?" His friend gave him a puzzled look, and Yuuma made a broad gesture with his arms in response, as if that was supposed to mean something.

"You know, about the, uh, the new world? Are you gonna visit that? Duel people there? I don't know what to expect from it to be honest, it's the first time for us and I'm reeaally excited and also curious and I can't wait to see what will happen...but we can't find out anything before the maintenance ends, and it looks like it's gonna take a while and I'm getting bored so, what are you gonna do?"

Michael hummed thoughtfully, glancing at his Duel Disk "Well, I was thinking of waiting until things settled down before doing anything about all of this. A game this big can get quite unstable with such a huge update, you know? That's why I came here anyway, and..." the pink-haired Duelist blushed faintly "..I may or may not have decided to ignore what Guide-san said about the Gate in the process. Please don't tell anyone I was here?"

"Don't worry, my lips are sealed." Yuuma said, mimicking a zipper sound as he ran two fingers along his lips for effect "No one will ever know of your super classified one-time incident of breaking the law...not that that law made sense anyway. I mean, COME ON..."

Michael giggled, listening as Yuuma launched into a full-on rant about how meaningless them 'closing' the Gate area was. He wasn't exactly wrong though; if it was about as dangerous as Guide said, surely there would be some obstacle or lock to stop people from getting too close, right? Surely she wouldn't just count on everyone to not be reckless enough to ignore her, right? Unless...

Unless the error she's dealing with here might cause serious backlash if she tried inputting a new command that also interacts with the Gate, in which case-

Any other thought that would have followed that trail instantly vanished when the Gate suddenly exploded with blue light, and in that moment, Michael's world went quiet.

-----------

"Unacceptable! This is unacceptable! I have a fucking job interview in two hours, how am I supposed to get ready in time for that??"

Yuusei sighed, running a hand through his already mussed hair for what was probably the eighth time in thirty minutes. Tour Guide's sudden announcement of an emergency maintenace -one that somehow overlapped with the new world's- had put everyone on edge, even more so after they found out they couldn't log out until it was over. As a result, every single Duelist currently in the 5D's World had gathered at the Deck Editor and unanimously decided to wait out the maintenance period there...but some of them weren't particularly happy about being stuck in the game for however long it took.

Chief of those was Jack, who kept pacing next to the table Team 5D's and co. clustered around, all while throwing several uncharitable insults at Guide, Isono, Kaiba, and basically everyone affliated with the Duel Links staff.

"Why do they have to keep messing up every time they launch one of those new words?? I swear, if I see any of those little-"

Carly instinctively covered her ears when the Resonator Duelist let out a particularly nasty swear, and Crow shot him a miffed glare from behind. Yuusei sighed again, then slowly pushed himself out from his chair to rest a hand on Jack's shoulder.

"Jack, please go get a cup of coffee and cool down." He said in an uncharacteristically pleading, tired tone "We're all stuck here, we all have important things to do, and some of us haven't slept for twenty-six hours. It'd do everyone a lot of good if you stopped yelling at empty air for a while."

Jack crossed his arms and huffed, but forced himself to simmer down regardless.

"...Fine. I'll go get myself some coffee and 'cool down' or whatever, but not because you asked me to, it's because I need some fresh air." And with that, the former King of Duels strode out of the Studio, coat flapping dramatically in a gust of wind before he went completely out of view.

"Good riddance." Crow let his head drop on the table with a low thud, raising a thumbs-up in Yuusei's general direction, and while he normally wouldn't agree with that sentiment, the Synchro Duelist was currently grateful for the calmer atmosphere of the place, now that Jack was gone. He slid back into his chair, hoping to get some shut-eye to compensate for staying up for all of the night before...

"Guys, we have a problem."

...Or not. Yuusei looked up in time to see Bruno -No, stop it, that's Antinomy- dropping in the chair between him and a barely conscious Kiryuu, the computer in his hands flashing with several warning signs overlapping on top of strings of code, which kept appearing and disappearing at a seemingly random pace. This, the noiret decidedly thought, peering intently at the screen, definitely doesn't look good.

"The energy output is spiking around the Gate area and the ones close to it." Antinomy explained to no-one in particular, his usually passive face set in a stressed frown as he clicked away at the keyboard "It appears that whatever issue that caused this emergency maintenance has gone completely out of control, and while we don't know exactly what that means, compressing so much energy in a certain area, no matter how broad..."

"...is bound to make it blow up." Yuusei concluded, eyes widening as his mind caught up with the implication behind that "This means the Duel Studio and everyone in it will be affected if anything happens to the Gate."

Antinomy nodded "Exactly. It could be that someone is trying to log in, and that's why I'm asking you to go and- dammit!" He swore, fingers moving across the keyboard at a far more frantic pace when the computer let out a series of long, loud beeping sound. Yuusei was pretty sure he got whiplash from how fast he turned to see what was going on-

-but before he could register more than the word "ERROR" bolded in blue across the screen, he felt a shock of static, and then...nothing.

-----------

"Automated Reboot Successful. Log-In Sequence...Complete."

"Connecting to WORLD_ID SERIES2...Connection Successful."

"Linking with.."

"..Sakaki Yuuya."

-----------

The first thing he felt when he came to was a gentle breeze tousling his hair, rays of sunshine lighting up his eyelids, and droplets of water spraying his face every couple seconds. It wasn't raining, that much he gathered, which meant that he'd most likely spawned near a fountain or a river, since there was no trace of the salty scent of seawater in the air.

Yuuya opened his eyes. Sure enough, there was a fountain to his left, its marble structure adorned with a ring of green leaves that carried all kinds of colourful flowers, water flowing from it center and from the sides. Pushing himself up, the tomato-haired Duelist looked around, taking in the rest of his current surroundings, and the first thing that caught his attention was a huge, round portal thingy that hovered in the air, with glowing lines of blue circuitry running through its silvery white perimeter.

That must be the Gate, he thought that's how I came here.

A bit further ahead was what seemed to be another portal, but this one was rectangular in shape, unlike the Gate's circle, and it was completely blue as well. Yuuya watched as the portal rotated in place slowly, the other side of it coming into view with the label 'Duel School' appearing on top of it. Curious, he reached out a hand to touch the portal...

...only to pull back immediately when the pixels forming it fizzled and crackled with electricity, shocking him.

"Ow ow ow ow ow!!" Yuuya clutched his stung hand with the other, hissing in pain at the contact before letting go of his hand. He sucked in deep breath then slowly exhaled, wiping the tears that formed at the corners of his eyes before turning away from the Duel School to keep walking (and to will away the sick, fleeting memory the shock had sparked for a moment).

Yeesh, that wasn't a great first interaction... he grimaced, waving his hand in the air in hopes that it would calm the stinging pain down But that doesn't mean I can't find something good if I keep looking. I wonder where all the other Duelists are.

The path he was walking down split into two at the end. Yuuya turned around, chancing one more look at the admittedly beautiful yet strangely desloate area he started in. He chalked its emptiness up to it being quite early in the morning...but then again, it wasn't morning for everyone around the world, so maybe it was just that the area was mainly used as a terminal, which would explain why he was the only one there...

Wait.

Wait.

He shouldn't be.

Switching his Duel Disk on with a quick swipe (which was an honestly stupid action in hindsight because damn his hand stung hard from that), Yuuya dialed the very first contact on his list, running the hand with the Disk strapped to it through bi-colored bangs and pushing them out of his face as the device rang once, twice, three times. Where was everyone else? He, Yuzu and Gongenzaka had logged in at the same time, and Sora had told them he'll jump in right after, so why was he the only one to come out of the Gate?

*Din-di-di-din, din-ding...Din-di-di-din, din-ding...Din-di-di-din-*

"Hello."

Yuuya blinked, then did a double take at the soft, young voice that came from the other end of the call. That...that wasn't Yuzu. He swallowed.

"..I'm sorry, who am I talking to?"

A few moments passed before the voice replied "My name is Sera. You must not recognize me, but please don't worry, the owner of this device is safe and sound, and if you wish to talk to her, she is here with me."

The line went silent then. Well, almost silent; Yuuya could hear bits of chatter and the sound of someone fiddling with the Duel Disk...before said someone decided to blast his eardrums full-force, like she always did.

"Yuuya! Where the heck are you?!" Yuzu cried out, and he found himself smiling at the familiar loudness "I've been looking for you everywhere!!"

He winced when her voice cracked on the last word, hand running through his hair again as he laughed nervously "Sorry, sorry! I...honestly don't entirely know where I am yet. Thought we'd start at the same place, but I guess we didn't..." He glanced around for any sort of landmark to pinpoint his position, then remembered where he came from at first and settled on that "Um, can you see the Gate? I'm standing close to it."

There was a beat of silence, then an audible sigh. "I see," Sera muttered at length "Sakaki-san, I think you have logged into a different Duel World than the one Hiiragi-san and I are in at the moment..because we're standing right in front of the Gate."

It took a full ten seconds for Yuuya's brain to register that, and when it did, all that came out of his mouth was a drawn-out "Whaaaaaaat??"

"...You skipped the rest of the tutorial, didn't you?" Yuzu's voice carried a hint of amusement and fondness, before assuming a more serious tone "Okay, look. If you check your Duel Disk, you'll find two arrows in a circle at the top left corner. Click that, and you'll get a list of the five different Duel Worlds in the game. Sera said that something happened before we came here that stopped everyone from travelling between those worlds, and apparently there was a sixth world that we were supposed to log into but didn't...anyway, the highlighted name will show you the world you're in. I'm in the fourth one right now..."

Yuuya listened as Yuzu explained what happened to her after logging into the Duel World, following her instructions all the while. A quick check told him that he was in the second world, the one labeled 'Duel World Series 2'. He nodded along his friends' words, and when she finished, he took yet another look at his surroundings.

"Alright, gotcha, I'm in the second world." He said, and it was then that he decided to head left "I guess I'll go take a look around the place, see if I can find out where everyone else is, and wait until we can all switch to the same world. It's great to hear you're alright, Yuzu. Take care!"

"Hey, that's my line!" She quipped in response, and Yuuya could practically hear the playful grin on her face "But seriously, I'm glad to know you're doing fine too. See you later, Yuuya."

And with that, the line went dead. Not even bothering to turn his Disk off, Yuuya broke into a quick jog, humming a cheerful tune to himself and grinning widely as he started rhyming the tune to his steps. Yuzu was fine, she was okay, they'll find each other soon enough and meet up with their friends, and they'll have tons of fun exploring the game, just as they planned.

Yeah, that's the spirit!

He only slowed down when the smooth, metallic path turned into dirt, patches of grass growing randomly in the way and on the sides, as well as a pair of trees and a few stray daisy bushes. A huge structure that felt so very out of place loomed ahead of him, its futuristic design and neon blue lines contrasting sharply with the simple greenery surrounding it, despite only being separated from that by a ring of gray tiles at the end of the dirt path. Upon closer inspection, there appeared to be a floating label above it that spelled out the words "Duel Studio", and a sliding door that opened on its own when Yuuya came close. The Pendulum Duelist stepped through-

"Ack!"

-and promptly crashed into a blur of black, stumbling backwards as a result. Leaning on the now-open door for support, Yuuya nursed his head with his free hand, letting out a small sigh before he looked up to check on whoever it was that he bumped into...and froze when he locked eyes with them.

That shade of gold was...familiar.

Yuuya's eyes widened, and the brunette facing him mirrored the action for a split second, before his shock faded into a passive scowl that clashed with his fluffy, Kuriboh-like hair. Yuuya opened his mouth to say something, he wasn't sure exactly what, but the taller male turned back to the Duel Studio, subtly motioning for him to come along, and whatever it was that he wanted to say went out of the window.

"Follow me." His voice -slow, deep and clear- carried a distinctly authoritative tone as he strode ahead, and after a moment of apprehension, Yuuya found himself trailing behind. The guy looked like he knew where he was going, and didn't exactly seem opposed to talking to him, which meant he could possibly get some answers to the pile of questions building up in his head, and well, weird gut feelings aside, that was actually a good thing.

The two sat at a round, red table in a distant corner, and then just...stared at each other. Yuuya waited for the Kuriboh-haired Duelist -at least, he guessed he was a Duelist, judging by the strange custom model of a Duel Disk on his left arm- to say something, anything, but nothing came out, and he wasn't sure exactly how to start the conversation, so...he kept waiting.

"............"

And waiting.

"............"

And waiting.

"............"

And waiting.

"............"

And then decided that was enough waiting. "Umm...are you even gonna say anything?" Yuuya asked after a full four minutes, half expecting to get no response..

..but the guy actually rolled his eyes at him, like he'd asked a stupid question or something "What are you expecting me to say?"

Huh. Okay, this man was kinda bad at conversing. Yuuya held back a sigh, plastered on a smile instead, and tried again.

"Hmm, how about an introduction? That sounds like a good start." He held out a hand "Nice to meet you, I'm Sakaki Yuuya. And you are..?"

The brunette's stared moved to Yuuya's outstretched hand, then back to his eyes...and then he sighed, holding his own hand to his temples as he mumbled something in a foreign language Yuuya couldn't make out (but assumed was an exasperated statement, based on the tone of what came next).

"Dear Lord, why is it that every single one of them turns out to be a child?"

"Huh?"

"You can see Duel Spirits," He said, pointing at Yuuya. It wasn't even a question, just a factual statement he threw as casually as someone discussing the weather forecast "and you most likely have a special bond with at least one of your cards, that may even go as far as your very soul being bound to it. Is that correct?"

A few moments passed in silence, and then: "How did you-"

"I knew that was the case. Listen to me, Sakaki Yuuya; I do not know the exact extent of your knowledge about the nature of this world, or that of the darkness you possess, but know this-" gold eyes narrowed dangerously, and Yuuya flinched in spite of himself "Duel Links is not just a game. There are greater forces behind the creation of the Duel Worlds, ones that can tamper with your memories and thoughts, even call back beings that were supposed to be gone forever and link different dimensioms. Your status as a Legendary Duelist means you are directly involved in everything that might happen in the new world, so proceed with caution, or prepare to deal with the consequences."

Yuuya reeled back in his chair, face going white. He stared down at his pendulum, gripping its dimly glowing crystal tightly in his hands -had it been doing that for a while? He had no idea. His head was starting to feel light, his throat got all choked up, and he was sure he'd be shaking if not for how tense his muscles were. What- what had he gotten himself into? If he'd known it was more than a game, if he'd known they'd be thrown in the middle of crossfire again-

Deep breaths, Yuuya, deep breaths.. He told himself before he got too lost in thought, inhaling sharply. Calm down, let it out slowly, relax.....yeah, there we go.

"Why are you telling me this?" The teen asked once he was certain his mini-panic attack was over, and he must've been imagining things because he could swear he saw a ghost of a smile on the other's face when he replied.

"In all honesty," he began slowly, the edge to his voice almost completely gone "I have had enough interdimensional conflict to last me a lifetime, and I would really rather not deal with any more of it if I can. I assume you understand where I'm coming from here?"

Yuuya hummed absently, and that seemed to be a satisfying answer to the brown-haired Duelist, who pushed himself out of his seat and turned to leave, but not without allowing himself another final sentence.

"Very well then. For your own sake, as well as everyone you may care about, I hope you're actually smart enough to follow my warning. Until we meet again...or not."

And with that, he walked away, disappearing behind the staircase to the right. As soon as he went out of sight, Yuuya let his head fall down on the table with an unceremonious flump!, making some inchoerent noises when the sound of some lady announcing the end of the 'Maintenance Break' blasted over the intercom above his head, and he became distantly aware of other voices and some footsteps sounding not too far from him.

*tap*

Alright, so he and everyone else have basically jumped into yet another grand scheme that caused conflict across different dimensions, but this time the stakes weren't as clear as in the Interdimensional War.

*tap-tap*

The thought was admittedly daunting, and he was a hundred percent sure no-one he knew would like to go through something like that again..

"Oi."

But on the bright side, it seemed that they weren't the only ones dealing with this sort of thing, which meant they could easily find many allies in the different Duel Worlds...yeah, if they kept an eye out, they should be all right-

"Oi!"

Yuuya's head snapped up when he realized someone was calling out to him, and when he looked up, he was greeted with the smiling face of..

"You again??"

..the same Kuriboh-haired Duelist?

"Sorry, what?"

Yuuya did a double take. Yeah, no, that wasn't him; the eyes were colored soft brown instead of hollow gold, and he was wearing a red jacket instead of a black robe too- Yuuya mentally scolded himself for overlooking the differences (but also found it somewhat funny because, you know, he had to deal with this kind of confusion more than once before).

"Nevermind, I think I confused you for someone else. My bad." He gave the red-jacketed brunette a sheepish grin, gesturing at the empty chair opposite to his, then watching as he placed his also strange custom model of a Duel Disk on the side of the table before sitting down himself, fiddling with the device all the while. Even the way he composed himself was different; this guy felt far more lax and chill compared to the other one, and it made Yuuya relax a bit in turn, the silence that stretched between them feeling more comfortable.

"So, let me guess..." Red Jacket began a bit later, leaning a bit forward with a curious glint in his eyes "You're one of the new kids?"

A small nod "You can say that, I guess. I'm Yuuya, and you?"

"Yuuki Juudai. Pleased to meet you, kiddo- wait, I can call you kiddo, right?"

"Sure, unless you're somehow younger than me, which I doubt because of the..height difference."

Juudai smiled again "Aight, kiddo it is then. I gotta say though, I'm impressed you managed to switch worlds that fast. Took me a whole week to realize that was even a thing."

He laughed, and Yuuya chuckled with him. "Actually.." he said afterwards, rubbing the back of his neck with a small, bashful smile "A friend told me about it, and I couldn't even use it when I first arrived. Something about an error happening with the new world and shutting down the whole game, I think? Yean, that locked out the switch thing for a while, and it stopped everyone from logging out too."

"Woah, for real?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Damn," Juudai slammed a hand down on the table "you sure had one heck of a first day, kiddo. Guide must be freaking out with all of this going on."

Yuuya blinked, confused "Guide?"

"Oh, you don't know her?" The older teen asked, quirking an eyebrow "She's, ah, the Duel Spirit of Tour Guide From the Underworld. Pretty much the one who manages this place, since the actual owner doesn't give a shit about the shenanigans happening around here, and she also runs the Duel School. You can go hit her up if you have any questions about the game; she's a great help for new players."

"A Duel Spirit..." Yuuya echoed quietly, stare moving down to the Deck slot of his Duel Disk. He closed his eyes for a moment, then looked up at Juudai and asked "So anyone can interact with them here? The spirits, I mean."

"Of course! It's part of the game's charm, y'know?" He answered, throwing a wink at Yuuya before continuing "Being able to hang out with all your monster friends, even if you might not see them in real life..I don't think anyone would pass up on something that cool."

The younger Duelist smiled at that, hand subconsciously touching the top of his Deck, which earned him several happy murmurs and a particularly loud roar as well "Yeah, that does sound pretty cool. I gotta try it sometime later."

"You totally should." Juudai agreed, taking out his own Deck and shuffling through it as he added "In the meantime...would you like a good ol' tabletop Duel? My old-ass relic of a Disk is being particularly laggy today, and I heard you had this cool summon mechanic with the backrow zones- what was it called again? Pendant? Pending?"

"It's Pendulum Summoning." Yuuya clarified, tentatively taking his Deck out of its slot when Juudai did the same "And uh, sure, I can show it to you if you want."

The brunette's smile turned into a wide grin as he whipped out a pair of folded game mats from his pocket and placed them on his and Yuuya's side of the table, putting each of their Decks on the far right before punching a fist in the air "Heck yeah! I'm finally the first to Duel the new kid with the new cards, this is gonna be a lot of fun!"

"Definitely!" He nodded, his own smile widening as he drew his starting hand with a little more flourish than necessary for a tabletop Duel- not that he really cared, what mattered at the moment was that, even if he was going to have to fight again later down the line, he was going to enjoy Dueling to the maximum as long as he could. No use worrying about the future, all he came here to do was have fun, and fun was he going to have.

Watch out, Duel Links, here I come..!

"LET'S DUEL!!"

~~~~~~~

THE END, finally. This, for whatever reason, took me three weeks to finish alongside the other prompts (okay actually Yuuya's POV slipped from me and I barely managed to end it where I did), and I couldn't even make it on time ffs. There goes my plans to deliver all chapters on time...but I at least hope you enjoyed reading. ...Oh yeah, you may have noticed by now that I left some loose ends here and there (like the conclusion of the chapter for the residents of Duel Worlds ZEXAL and 5D's, AKA those poor souls who got a mass reboot error and received no answers as to why), and to that I say...nothing. Yeah, you gotta wait a little while longer to see what happened to them after the reboot. That said, I shall now take my leave and return to the land of Ao3, see y'all on...someday by the end of the month, I guess.

[resetpermalik]

Mass Music Measurements Survey Form

A freeCodeCampChallenge

Gaining Speed

This marks my second freeCodeCamp challenge. As I mentioned in my after action report from the first FCC challenge (tribute page), it took some time to finally gain traction and fully complete that project. That was a problem with (one) unnecessary complexity of design and (two) a lack of planning (before I began to code.) It was my assumption that if I laced the project with many working parts, I would learn much, much faster; also, that by getting right to the code, I could pick up the syntax, semantics and general knack for writing (code) in less time. And wow, I was very incorrect in thinking so.

As a response to my previous poor start (with my tribute page,) this time I was better able to address some lessons which had only occurred to me when halfway through the last project. So this time, I really dialed in the importance of streamlining my initial paperwork designs, learning how to more proficiently use Figma and some of its tools, how to better approach icon design with Photoshop and vastly improve my entire workflow. This provided (not only) an easier build, but also a more efficient angle by which I was empowered to catch more lessons along the way.

In the next few paragraphs, I will detail just which specific advantages I picked up in terms of HTML5, CSS3 and JavaScript capability. In addition, I will move through some of the tactics I employed to help me finish this challenge with much more confidence than the last.

Planning Stages

When I set out to hand-write the marked goals (set down by FCC’s challenge,) I do find it tedious. The thing is, I am copying (in my own words) precisely what the challenge is demanding of me. Let me elaborate…

With every line, I am telling myself that I really do not need to do this. I mean, I can pretty easily peer over at the other browser window (when necessary) and see exactly what my marching orders are. Though albeit true, there are a couple of key differences in (one) reading from FCC and (two) writing/reading my own notes.

As I write out every expected step of my project, I can build an image immediately for how I would like my creation to take shape. This falls in line with the visual aspects and design, the color scheme, the functionality of each element and the code itself. It is a powerful method to which I will pay better respect going forward. (I already have plenty of ideas on how to implement more potent procedures — like larger drafting paper, (which will allow for a greater landscape on my pages, maybe using a tablet for notation and perhaps a few voice recordings along the way)). Now, I may be getting ahead of myself! Back to the plans..

And so writing out the objectives is terrific for lots of reasons, but moving to the drawn design itself — this may be the most crucial bit yet. Here’s the deal. When I physically drew the (expected) survey form, I may have well completed the whole project. So what does that mean?

I took so much liberty in imagining what the design should resemble. More specifically, I let my mind wander and allowed thoughts to spill out onto the legal pad before me. This (in combination with my understanding of how everything needed be expressed in code) let me structure my rough draft with such a degree that the next step made the actual coding like an exercise in copy and paste. I’ll expound…

I was drawing parts which were effectively elements of HTML. This was followed by some (more precise) markings of pseudo-code (which amounted to about all of the HTML I required to code for the whole challenge.) So, when I say the planning has proved to be useful, this would be an undestatement. This attention to planning has made it possible for me to avoid the ‘nuts and bolts’ in my code editor. Now, this advancement is massive, because the saved time and effort was a testement to why I was then able to better learn more intricate detail when coding. And now let’s get to those lessons and the code at large.

Within Earshot of Paper and Pencil

My goal is not to elaborate on the use of specific technologies, but more-so the process itself. however, I will briefly touch on Figma and Photoshop…

Using Figma helped me focus on each element and understand how they more literally fit together in the puzzle. I was able to name every piece such that it would show me what my HTML element should be in code and how each need be named. Also, I took those separate entities and grouped them such that I could postion everything exactly as I wished. My next goal with Figma will be to utilize the ‘component’ feature and truly unroll some strong functionality of the software.

Regarding Photoshop, I made a logo for my survey and spun it into a favicon with relative ease. In an attempt to create animations and advertisements for my affiliate site, I have better come to understand Photoshop’s effectiveness. Thereby, building my icon was fairly straightforward. I simply pieced it together with a couple of layers and exported the PNG. I still want to be able to employ SVGs for this application; but until now, I haven’t perfected the craft. I will leave that for the coming FCC challenge. Onward!

Coding the Beast

The first topic to address here is quite obvious for me… SUITE TESTING.

When I began coding this project, I wrote my HTML boilerplate and immediately tied in the FCC testing script so I could begin verifying my code at every turn. I’ll elaborate…

I ran into a few issues with debugging throughout my last project; those were problems which resulted in code errors piling up on me simultaneously. And, while an error (for which you don’t know the remedy) is frustrating…several of those errors (all at once) becomes infuriating. Luckily, I ran into a great solution. Unit testing.

By instantiating the FCC test suite before I began coding the bulk of my project, I was then gifted the opportunity of verifying each of the sixteen goal posts.

In more detail, nearly no problems snuck up on me while coding the breadth of this project because I was adamant on addressing them in real time (as they appeared). What a true life-saver...

Input Text (element, attribute)

I found it repetitive and annoying at first, when the 10th goal of this challenge asked me to give both the input and label elements their own respective and corresponding ids. This was because I (very simply) did not understand the request. Along with that, I definitely didn’t understand why it was being asked (to begin with.) 

That said, I now realize that the goal was to identify the label for the text field, in addition to the field itself. In understanding this distinction, I have now been able to find value in this very feature.

By giving ids to both my labels and input texts, I was then able to style each distinctly and find them with more ease (while peering though my HTML.) Now here’s real solid tip which I will not soon forget.

Don’t Pick More Than One Option!

So, I was writing the code for my radio buttons and what happened next is certainly a rookie mistake. When I navigated to my browser (in order to test the options,) I found that EVERY one of my buttons was clickable. And this, for obvious reasons, is not ideal.

This solution was super easy. All I needed to do was unify (or make each value the same for) the input-radio buttons. After I placed cloned values for each radio button, only one option could then be chosen. Success!

Nitpick the Name and Ids

This is something which should possibly be glossed over. But, when working with various input fields, I was asked to employ many names and ids for each.

While I’m not entirely certain (even now) whether there is a standard for which comes first, I have come to realize that name attributes should possibly supercede id attributes.

Using Visual Studio Code, it seems to like placing names before ids. And in a real life estimation, using name over id seems to be old-fashioned, but admirable.

More seriously, I understand in code, name will be less subjective (while more actionable) and ids will more far more particular and prone to alteration.

Dropdown

I was in a position to use dropdown boxes twice in this project. The problem I came across was that my options continued to begin with the default option as selectable. While I learned the solution quickly and with ease, I believe it should be recorded as vital.

When inserting a placeholder option in a dropdown box, in order to keep it from being a clickable entity, you have to style it as such.

I called the id of the option in my CSS sheet and set its display as none. That easy.

Pseudo Class and Element Selectors

Very little of my experience with this challenge dealt with pseudo class or pseudo element selectors. But, I will cover (in short) what I did learn (with these topics in mind.)

Using a pseudo element selector is the best (or maybe only) way to call an attribute from an HTML element and style with CSS.

This is how I was able to change the appearance of my placeholder text in each input-text.

I know pseudo class selectors are the way to alter elements (in a certain state) like ‘hover’ or ‘before’, but I haven’t used them enough to expand this monologue. That said, I’ll press on…

Attribute Selectors

In confluence with my previous words, I may have provided a misnomer to exactly what was being modified with pseudo-elements. But, I digress (and hopefully you see what I mean).

Using attribute selectors is quite different from other selectors, because you will be placing true brackets in as your selector which house your attribute, followed by an equal sign and a set of quotations (housing your value.)

Looks like this [attribute=“value”]. And that’s that!

Media Queries

While I employed media queries for this project, I have yet to fully grasp exactly how to use them (in reference to appropriation and context.) Therefore, I will not go into detail; but, only mention that I used them to alter my CTA button across pixel-widths. Also, I realized that setting a new media query works better when starting with the immediate values from your last screen size.

A Bit of JavaScript

The big task I pushed for in this project was this: change the client-side font family for a text area as the user types. And by big, I mean, it took me about as long as the rest of the whole challenge to learn this functionality with JavaScript. That said, I now understand much better how JS semantics are employed. And, that’s pretty priceless…

For this goal, I inserted a script with an event listener. First, I started with DOMContentLoaded, which allows for firing without the images or styling need be loaded.

The next bit lets my document be called by its (element) id.

Then, it states that my id will be triggered by any input (via an eventListener) and will force my later instantiated function.

The function declared will let the charCode number equal a string which will be console.log(ed) out as my target.value (of Nunito, sans-serif) with proper style.fontFamily.

Conclusion

Attempting to wrap this project up in a nice bow is difficult, as I have onboarded a great deal of information (from one simple survey page.) After completing this task, I am left with a split-brain. While I have learned so much from something, seemingly straightforward, now I am thrilled to make it to the next project and take on those new expectations.

I suppose my takeaway is that I should fine-tune my HTML and CSS understanding and seriously crack open all that is JavaScript. All which, can wait until tomorrow. Cheers!

[the-awkward-outlaw]

Hello! Can you do something with a very (VERY) clingy Arthur and a female reader. Modern times. Like she could be doing things and he calls a lot or texts a lot. But he does it outta love and cuz he’s scared of losing her

You’ve been in a relationship with Arthur for nearly a year. He works on a ranch only about thirty minutes out of the city you live in. There’s something incredibly refreshing about dating a rancher. Perhaps it’s the fact that he doesn’t live in the city, or that he retains a certain sense of masculinity that you find attractive. It’s not toxic luckily and Arthur’s always held a respect for you and other women, but he still holds himself to a certain standard. Plus he looks super good in his rugged clothes, worn out by years of use and faded by long hours in the sun. 

Every weekend, you’ll go and stay at his place. He offered to switch with you every other weekend to stay in your apartment, but you need the break from the crowded city and the rude people who live there. His ranch, nestled in a bowl made by mountains and cradled in a forest, is exactly the kind of release you need every week, even in the bitter cold winters. He doesn’t mind of course, and you know it saves him some money so he won’t have to hire someone to tend his livestock for two days. 

When you first started dating Arthur, he was incredibly respectful of your space and time, but after you were together for six months and finally slept together, something in him changed. Something better. He became more open with you and more touchy. You’d always been a bit touch-averted, a product of your childhood and a general distrust of people. There was something about him that made you able to warm up to him. You even found yourself longing for his touch and it didn’t help that when he held you against him, you fit like a puzzle piece. 

Over the last three months you’ve been with him, he’s gotten a little more clingy. He texts you every day, usually just asking how you are and what you’re up to. He also likes to video call you just about every night. When he first started doing it, you were kind of skeeved out about it, worried he’d be getting possessive, jealous, or suspicious. Your previous boyfriend was like that. He demanded you show him all the texts you’d sent over a period of the last few days, constantly accusing you of cheating without any proof. You weren’t, of course and then you found out after a couple of months that he was. You were worried when Arthur would ask where you were, suspicious he’d accuse you of cheating. He never did though, he just said he wanted to make sure you were safe. 

Arthur doesn’t like the city, he never has. It’s too crowded for his taste, the people too selfish. Sure, his small town has its problems, of course. The youth in it are particularly involved in drugs and underaged drinking, but there’s a strong sense of community and friendliness to it. Everyone looks out for each other and helps one another. Something you’ve never seen in the city. But Arthur’s dislike of the city leads him to constantly worry about you. He fears you getting attacked, robbed or even in a car accident. That’s why he likes to check in on you once a day, just to be sure you’re safe. 

When Arthur first started doing this, you were worried he’d demand to go through your phone like your last boyfriend did. However, never once did he ask you to unlock your phone so he could go snooping through it. He never even asked for the code to unlock it. Once, you asked him why, incredibly suspicious. He looked shocked that you thought he’d want to do something like that. “Your privacy is somethin’ ain’t no one got a right to, darlin’,” he said. “I ain’t ever gonna try and invade that.” 

After that, your trust of him grew even more and so did your relationship. It’s been nearly a year now and you’re absolutely crazy about him. You also long for his lifestyle. Sure, your job pays a little more, but you’ve helped him on the weekends at his ranches and there’s something satisfying about the work. The constant movement, being outdoors, interacting with the animals. You’ve grown particularly fond of one of his mares he named Boadicea. You’ve found yourself fantasizing more and more about doing that full time, quitting your job in the city and just living with Arthur. You doubt it could happen though. There simply isn’t enough money in it, which you hate thinking that way, but in this world, you simply can’t get by without some means of decent money. 

The physical distance hasn’t put a damper in your relationship, though. You were afraid for the first few months that it would be the thing to break you apart. Part of you still fears that, but you recall a night from two months back. One of his fears came true when you were in a car accident. It wasn’t your fault and it wasn’t bad, though it totaled your car. You’d been sitting at a light when someone, who was suspected to be on their phone, slammed into the rear of your car. Luckily no one was hurt, but it shook you up quite a bit. As you sat on the side of the road while the police worked on cleaning things up, you called Arthur and told him what happened. He lived over thirty minutes away from where you were, but he got there in twenty. When he got there, he almost looked like he wanted to deck the person who hit you in the face, but he didn’t. He stayed close to you the entire time and when the police had your car towed and said you could leave, he helped you into his truck and drove you immediately to an instacare room. You said you felt fine, but he wanted to be absolutely sure you were okay. After a checkup, the doctor deemed you’d be fine, just sore for a few days. 

Arthur drove you home that night and as soon as you’d changed into some comfy pajamas, he threw a blanket around you and held you close. It was a good thing too, because the shock set in then and you began to shake and cry. He held you the entire night. He stayed with you for a week as well, only going back to his ranch when you were at work. He drove you there and picked you up everyday until you got your insurance money and were able to buy a new car. Arthur helped you pick it and you loved it. It got better mileage than your last did, which meant you didn’t have to waste so much gas on the weekends when you went to see him. 

You’re headed home now and  your phone dings. It’s probably Arthur, texting you to make sure you’re okay. When you reach a light you know won’t change for a few moments, you pick up the phone. Instead of the usual, it says: “face time tonight?” You reply, “Yes”.

As soon as you’re home and settled to be in your house the rest of the night, you open your laptop and call him up. He responds immediately with a big grin. 

“Hey, sweetheart. I, uh, I wanted to talk to ya about something,” he says. 

“I do too, honey.”

He invited you to go first and you rush into the news quickly. “I talked with the higher ups at my work. They said they could get me set up to work remotely from my laptop, but that I’d still have to come in on Tuesdays for the weekly meetings.”

His face splits into a grin. “That’s funny, because what I wanted to ask ya goes along with that. Darlin’, I was thinkin’ we could move in together. You could live here, I know ya hate that apartment of yours.” 

You look around at said apartment. You have hated it here. Three long years of paying for three overpriced rooms with a landlord who hardly gives two shits about anything that goes wrong with it. And a lot goes wrong since it’s an older building. 

“You’d be okay with that?” you ask. “I know you’ve lived alone for the past few years.” 

He told you about how he grew up with his uncles Dutch and Hosea, who owned the ranch and took him in as a young boy. They passed away a few years back, leaving Arthur alone. 

“Darlin’, if I wasn’t okay, I wouldn’t be asking you. Besides, like you said, I been alone these past few years. I’m ready for somethin’ different. What do you think?” 

Your face splits into a huge grin and you tell him how excited you are. He chuckles and then says he has a surprise for you. Before you can ask him what it is, he disconnects. You try texting him and even calling him, wondering if your service is having problems again. Another problem with this damn apartment. 

Thirty minutes later, a knock comes on your door and Arthur walks in, holding a bundle of beautiful flowers. As soon as he walks in, he pulls you into his arm and kisses you. “You’ve made me a very happy man, Y/N. I just hope…” 

“You have made me happy,” you say, cupping his cheek. “I am so excited to live with you! Your ranch is gorgeous.” 

“I was just thinking maybe living out there could do you some good, darlin’. Help you heal.”

You kiss him softly. “I’ve no doubt about that. But why’d you get me flowers, Arthur? Did…. did you take them out of your garden? You shouldn’t have! It’s not even Valentine’s Day.” 

He chuckles, letting you talk. “I’d rather get you flowers I grew myself on a random Thursday rather than some overpriced, half dead common roses on the day everyone else gets them for their significant other. I just want ya to know how much I love you.” 

He kisses you again and you respond by taking his hand and leading him to your bedroom. You’re suddenly excited for everything the future has in store. 

[docholligay]

Cheaters Prosper

I totally left my drive at home and so when I started working today I didn’t get very far before it was like “oh shit” and also no one gave me suggestions for today so I’ll do some more work tomorrow (episodes 37-40, if anyone has topics) but today I wrapped up a fic about Pharah thinking of proposing to Mercy, because both moonlight and sunspot like Pharah/Mercy, so hopefully it’s not a terrible consolation prize for the day. 1900 words

Fareeha Amari was nervous. 

It was more unsettling for her than most, as she was not accustomed to the feeling. You could put Pharah into the middle of a battlefield, bombs going off around her, and be treated only to her calm. Her eyes would remain straight ahead, her brow relaxed, as some higher-up demanded answers. Her Raptora suit might fail in the middle of a test, and she would simply guide herself to the ground as delicately as possible. 

But all of those things were known, and had clear consequences. Even the worst outcome was one Pharah had prepared herself for time and again, running the plans and permutations over and over. This was different. Pharah could  not know how she would react if the plan failed, and this gave her a sense of unease that was quite foreign to her. What would be the follow-up plan? Who could know? This was the most terrifying plan Pharah had ever hatched. 

She was going to propose to Mercy. 

Pharah had looked over the options, time and again. It seemed a reasonable risk to take. Mercy had suggested the idea of them moving in together when her contract with Harvard was up in the spring. They very much enjoyed each other’s company, and had spent large spans of time together. She knew Mercy’s imperfections, and Mercy knew hers, and they seemed to be able to fit the puzzle pieces together. The formula in Pharah’s head seemed to suggest that success was likely, very likely.

So why was she afraid? 

She looked down at the very simple ring she had selected, one that would glide easily under a surgical glove, the small but star-bright diamond set into the band so that there was no worry of things trapped under the stone. It was rose gold, which Pharah had determined Mercy liked very much, carefully watching her this last year. 

Pharah nearly blushed as she thought it, if she was the sort of person who allowed that. Had she really been thinking of marrying her that long? So soon after having met her? But it was true, however silly Pharah might have thought it was. She had known she wanted to marry Angela Zeigler within the first week of knowing her. It had been terrifying, to be so sure of something she had never wanted for herself. 

It was terrifying now, even with that long to know it. 

She had told no one. If Mercy turned her down, she was not sure she could bear the shame of it, of having guessed so badly, and she had to be open to the possibility. People were never her specific gift. Sometimes she said too much, or not enough, and hurt someone without knowing it. In the past, she had thought others should simply assume her intentions were honest, and not put so much stock in their emotions. But there were a few times, though, she tried to assure herself, not too many, that she had hurt Mercy with her brashness and silence, and she had resolved to do better. She had done better. Pharah worked hard at the things she desired. 

Mercy would like the ring. She had taken great care to ensure it, and if Mercy didn’t, she could have it returned, and get something better. She would tell Mercy that, of course. But Mercy would like the ring. Of course she would. 

If only she could speak to Tracer. 

She hated the thought as soon as it came into her mind. She had gotten used to Tracer, it was true, much like one develops a callus with constant friction, but it still annoyed her that Tracer was her best source of information on what Mercy might and might not like. Tracer was good with words and people in a way Pharah was not, and she had helped Pharah in her early days with Mercy, but she had also teased Pharah over her awkwardness with the tenderer things. Tracer had been a spoiled child, told she was special and held tight, and had no idea what it was to stumble over a gentle feeling. She would never tell Tracer she was doing this. 

But at least Tracer would have known what to say. 

She turned the ring again in the light, the perfect facets catching even the dim glow at the bar top, throwing off bright rainbows. It was nearly perfect. She had forced the jeweler to go over each one, asking for vetted paperwork on their provenance--Mercy would worry that it had come from some sort of conflict---looking for the one that was brightest, most beautiful. She had paid well for it, but she had expected to, and Mercy was worth it. Her words would not be so shining, or so sparkling, and so the ring had to be. 

“I love you,” she murmured to herself, “I would never want to live without you.” 

She sighed, and took a drink of her Labatt. What a stupid thing to say. Of course she loved Mercy. Of course she didn’t want to be without her. What was the purpose of getting married otherwise? 

She should call Sam. He’d proposed to her mother, hadn’t he? And he was a kind man, and loved Mercy, and would be so excite to hear the news. But, then again, he must not have said the right thing, because her mother had turned him down flat, over and over again, until she’d simply moved back to Egypt and had Pharah--

“You okay?” The bartender looked at her, wiping his hands, fresh from cutting citrus, the sour brightness of it still hanging in the air. 

She nodded, but he looked down at the ring box open in her hand and smiled. 

“It’s pretty,” he nodded to her, “she’ll like it.” 

Pharah let out a small chuckle. “How do you know she did not already tell me no?” 

He set another Labatt in front of her. “Because you’re not drinking the hard stuff. Am I wrong?” 

“Very clever.” She took the beer appreciatively, and looked to his hand. A ring of his own. ‘What did you say? When you asked?” 

“Oh,” he scratched his head, “You know, I can’t remember? Been so damn long.” 

Pharah closed the ring box and slipped in back into her pocket, making sure the button snapped tightly over it. She had carried it all the way from Egypt, telling herself that she was going to do it on this trip, that nothing would stop her, that she was Fareeha Amari, callsign Pharah, fearless and commanding in the face of anything life had to throw at her. She had come here to see Mercy, and to start a new life with her. She liked rose gold, and she wanted a chuppah at the wedding, and Pharah might not have the right words, but she could give Mercy all of that. 

“You know,” the bartender said, leaning across the back of the bar and giving her a long look, “do you love her?” 

“Of course I do,” Pharah scowled a moment, insulted, “I...there is no one else, in my life, that makes me feel this, this thing, I know…” she gave a small puff of frustration at her own weakness, “I feel like coming home, when I see her.” 

“Just tell her that,” he laughed, “I have no idea what I said, and that’s the truth, but we’ve been through everything together. Someday, you won’t be nervous to tell her things. I promise. She’ll be the only person you always want to tell. It’s kinda fun, young love, but,” he sighed, “it’s no replacement for just being married. For always being, like you said, at home. Do your best. She loves you, she’ll see it.” 

“I want to give her things.” 

Suddenly it seemed strangely safe, to tell someone what she wanted, and the edge went out of her voice, She couldn’t remember the last time that had happened, with a stranger, and this man could be nothing but a stranger to her. But he looked on her with generosity, and that did not count for nothing in Pharah’s mind. And so, she continued, looking at the woodgrain looping on the bar top. 

“She should have beauty, and poetry. She very much--she’s very fond of poetry. I am no poet.” She looked up quickly. “This is not to discount my skill, or my work ethic, or the many things I do. I am not feeling sorry for myself.” 

He laughed, shaking his head. “I didn’t say you were.” 

She closed her eyes a moment, chastened. “I apologize. I was reminding myself.” She peeled at the edge of the beer bottle label, something she was certain she had never done in her life but felt the only way forward. “But it is true. She loves poetry. Beauty. I am no poet, or artist. I am...reliable. Efficient. Loyal.”

“And I’ll bet you,” you tossed the dishcloth on the counter, “she knows that. And likes it enough so far. I know a lot of women who’d kill for that. I’ll bet you, that she loves the fact that you’re probably, what a little bit of a neat freak? Like to be early? Color-coded schedules? I bet that’s nice for her. Maybe it’s something she needs, you know, that sort of, happens every day thing.Maybe she loves that most of all” He patted her hand. “Come back in after you ask her, I’ll give you a free bottle of bubbles.” 

She arched her eyebrow? “You’re so sure?” 

He grinned. “Tell you what, if I’m wrong, I’ll give you that bottle of Glenfidditch 30 year up on the top shelf, never opened.” 

Pharah cocked her head. Her father would love the scotch, even if he balked at what it would have cost her, and so, even if she said no, there would be a bonus. 

“And if I worried for nothing?” 

He thought a moment. ‘Then you owe me a favor, and I can always use a favor.” 

“Fair.” 

A little bell rung high over the bar, and Mercy came in, smiling brightly, hair a mess from the wind and cheeks bright pink, like some sort of tousled blush rose against the dark wood of the place. Her blue eyes glittered when she saw Pharah, and she set her bag by the side of the bar, kissing Pharah softly. 

“You’re here!” she put her hand on the back of Pharah’s neck, “Sorry I was having some meeting, and--” 

Pharah took both of her hands in hers. “You are so cold.” 

“Oh, you know, the wind, is so--oh, I need to go wash my hands, I was just leaving the meeting so quickly, I didn’t stop,” she kissed Pharah on the cheek, “I will be right back.” 

“Angela honey,” the bartender called to her as she left, “Brandy toddy? You want the apple brandy?” 

“Oh, yes, thank you Ernie!” She smiled, and then turned around toward the bathroom. 

Pharah scowled and indicated with the tip of her beer. “You cheated.” 

“You didn’t ask,” The grin took over the whole of his face, “but I might have heard of you.” He laughed and grabbed the apple brandy off the shelf. “You’ll be just fine.” 

Pharah felt at the ring box in her pocket, but could not stop herself from smiling. She was happy enough to be tricked, if it meant that she knew it was time to come home.

[curserp]

first of all, i just want to say i loved seeing all the thoughts and theories that were going on around all of this !!!  honestly, i think some of you guys gave me too much credit, because most of this is a lot simpler than the intricate stuff you came up with--- i wish i had thought of some of the things you all did !  but for now, finally, here’s  ( most of )  the clues i purposefully placed, as well as some general info, which i’ve tried to break up into sections for ease of reading.

SKELETONS / NUMBERS :

the skeletons are listed below with their id numbers  ( the tags are linked as well ) :

andromeda : #0237632.

arachne : #0272463.

cassandra : #0276372.

daedalus : #0323357.

helen : #0043536.

heracles : #0472537.

jason : #0052766.

medea : #0063332.

midas : #0064327.

narcissus : #0672787.

orion : #0067466.

pandora : #0726372.

paris : #0072747.

perseus : #0777387.

each of the id numbers were decided by entering the skeleton names onto the dial pad of a phone--- abc = 2, def = e, ghi = 4, jkl = 5, mno = 6, pqrs = 7, tuv = 8, wyz = 9.

phones in general were hinted at a few times.

in asks, as i tried to use the word ‘call’ repeatedly when asked about it, ‘key’ once, as well as the word ‘phony’ at one point. get it ? phone-y ?  that one was kind of a stretch, i know.

a phone prominently featured in a branch on the classification quiz.

the encoded text messages were, obviously, sent from a phone.

on an update before dropping stage 3, a strange voicemail was mentioned and you were encouraged to delete it from your phone.

the database speaks to you over the phone during curse finalization.

on the graphic for stage 3, a phone is the only object in the hallway.

some names did need to be shortened in order to fit all the same number of digits, so andromeda became adrmda, pandora became pandra, etc.

honestly, this code was weirder and more random than most of the other things, so i’d call it bonus points more than anything else. a lot of you puzzled out who was who without knowing what the numbers meant.

CURSE REGISTRATION / STAGE I   ( here ) :

i asked you all to send in these results to the curse database, and used those totals to decide the order in which the skeletons would be released ; midas ended up with the most results so they’re posted first, cassandra got the least so they’re last, etc.

results from all three stages will also factor in to some future plot drops, though i’ll keep those quiet for now.

TEXT POSTS :

these are pretty straightforward ; i chose text that i thought suits each skeleton as i’ve written them, and tagged them with their respective curse ids to tease the fact that there were ids at all.

FOLDERS PAGE   ( here ) :

this displays not only the skeletons’ classifications, but also their active danger levels ; one exclamation point for low, two for medium, three for high.

while the classifications were shown as only numbers 001-007 at that point, since the curse classification blog hadn’t dropped yet, in this ask a few posts previous i wrote the types as the first word of each corresponding number on the list.

CURSE CLASSIFICATION / STAGE II   ( here ) :

when you reach a result on the curse classifications, the clock at the top of the screen stops and displays a single time. that number corresponds to the number on the files image. when you get an error it shows only zeroes.

the classifications are :

chaos   ( pandora, paris )

death   ( arachne )

hero   ( heracles, jason, perseus )

infamy   ( cassandra, midas )

loss   ( daedalus, medea )

love   ( helen, narcissus, orion )

monster   ( andromeda )

yes, those are alphabetical. when i was making the folders page i just kinda said fuck it.

i took the hands off the clock on the image in the post, both because i wanted to draw attention to the clocks on the actual pages, and cause it looked sick.

if you get to page /c6, the clock stops and zeroes out. that’s because there’s no way to get anything but an error after that point.

i asked you all to send in these results to the curse database, too, and they were used as tiebreakers for the skeleton posting order. like, medea and pandora ended up with the same amount of results from registration, but there were more loss results than chaos from classification, so medea goes first.

TEXT MESSAGES   ( here, here, here, here, here, here, and here ) :

the encryption on the text messages is caesar cipher, where you shift the alphabet a certain number of letters over and substitute those letters for each other. for example, an alphabet with a shift of 1 would have a become b, b become c, and so on. the shift changes for each text message, depending on what the character’s curse classification is. so the text from narcissus  ( #0672787, classification of 6. love )  has a shift of 6.

the decoded texts are :

#0063332.  ( medea, shift 5 ) : you made your choice. now i am making mine.

#0672787.  ( narcissus, shift 6 ) : at least you’ll be hung in the stars. i’ll only be remembered like a cautionary tale.

#0072747.  ( paris, shift 1 ) : don’t blame me, please. i am not the villain.

#0272463.  ( arachne, shift 2 ) : did you make this for yourself, too ?

#0472537.  ( heracles, shift 3 ) : wasn’t my strength meant to earn me a better reward than this ?

#0237632.  ( andromeda, shift 7 ) : you cannot be a hero all the time. what if my monster wins ?

#0064327.  ( midas, shift 4 ) : i could have known better, at least. nothing this gold could come without consequence.

i also wanted to use this to kind of further their feeling of being watched ---which i hope i started to get across just in some answers to anons ---with the messages between skeletons be ‘intercepted’ by the database.

CURSE FINALIZATION / STAGE III   ( here ) :

before dropping this stage, a ‘data breach’ was mentioned twice in separate posts. this was to  ( hopefully )  encourage people to look for hidden information--- aka, the data that was breached.

there are five total hidden pages on this stage, and one secret extra message.

first is another intercepted message from one of the skeletons. the link is here.

on page /b2, click the word ‘key’ to get here.

the text message is from #0276372, aka cassandra, who is prophetic. cassandra is the only skeleton with anything set about their curse, and their prophecies will be a part of gameplay.

the url for this page is 0677437, and if you use the same keypad method as the numbers for the skeletons, that translates to ‘mssges.’

second is a chart monitoring active danger levels. the link is here.

on page /b3, the clock has stopped at 00:00:14, for the 14 skeletons. if you wait those 14 seconds, you will automatically be redirected.

the url for this page is 0003282, or ‘data.’

the third is a contact log between the database and a god. the link is here. 

on page /c2, a ‘source’ is mentioned. if you view the source code of the page, the first thing at the top is the url.

the clock on this page has stopped at 02:09:01, and the connection was lost at that same time ; if you substitute letters in for numbers, 291 spells ‘bia’, the goddess of violence, who the communication was with.

the url for this page is 0005647, or ‘logs.’

the fourth is an incident report from a monster attack. the link is here.

on page /c7, ‘time’ is mentioned repeatedly. click on the clock to get here.

the incident report is 8-1-18-16-25, which, with a substitution between numbers and letters, translates out to ‘harpy,’ the type of creature from the attack.

the url for this page is 0737678, or ‘report.’

the fifth is the list of id numbers and their skeletons. the link is here.

on this ask, i asked  ( yes, i sent this one to myself )  about the numbers, and responded ‘why haven’t you searched.’ put /numbers directly after the url of curse finalization to get here.

if you highlight above the ‘submitting’ text on the /finalize page, you can find a message : ‘you’re not safe here.’

the codes you all reached are going to remain kind of a mystery for now. there is a solution for it, if you’re really interested in puzzling it out, but i’m not going to list the answer here. they’ve helped me decide the first plot drop of the group. this is somewhat of a teaser for how the gameplay will go here ; the curse database will remain an active player, and you’ll often be helping choose events. you just might not always when you’re doing it, or how.

easter eggs / fun facts, i guess !

when you get an error in curse registration or classification, if you hover your mouse over the word ‘error,’ it shakes like a glitch. this serves no purpose and means nothing, it just took me a while to figure out how to code, so i wanted to point it out. just let me have this

i actually had a very different stage three planned when i dropped stage two, one incorporating the results from registration and classification more, but the classification results i got were totally different than what i’d expected. while the registration results were pretty varied, over half of the 40-something answers i got from your classifications were for ‘love,’ and i actually got only one ‘monster’ and zero ‘death’ results from you guys. which i suppose is fitting, since there’s only one skeleton of each !  but still, it threw things off a bit, and i had to pretty thoroughly rework stage three. besides, i ended up with like 100+ results from both stages, and i got kind of overwhelmed with my original idea. you all kept me on my toes !!

i sent two asks to myself : the one i needed to set up so i could list out the curse classifications, the one to drop a hint about the /numbers page. the rest all came from you guys !  and for that i am hugely grateful--- i had sort of escape plans the entire time if there wasn’t enough interest, where i’d be able to drop the main after stage one or two and skirt around the extras, but i’m so glad i got to follow through on this thing to the end. i wouldn’t have been able to do it without your engagement. every single time i get a little inbox notification i get excited.

i noticed some of you were getting a lot of error results, but that’s not on you !  there were 32 possible results on curse registration with 16 of those being errors, and 15 results on curse classification with 8 of those being errors. so don’t worry, you were more likely on those stages to get an error than a result.

some of you wondered if the general urls  ( /a1, /b2, etc. )  of the different pages on the registration, classification and finalization blogs meant something, and i’m sorry to say they don’t. originally i was going to customize them so they’d be harder to just sift through later, but there ended up being 130+ total pages between all three blogs--- and for my own sanity, and for the sake of easier organization when editing them, i just left them as they were with their letters and numbers.

someone asked me if this post was for cassandra since the quote involves cassandra in the source material agamemnon. whoops. it’s not, that post is actually just a nod to the fact that i don’t know how to read.

i think that’s just about everything !  there are all kinds of other small things as nods to skeletons, the plot, the database in general, future plot drops, all scattered throughout answers on the curse database--- and i’ll be here all day if i list them all. if you have any specific questions about anything i would love to answer them, so please feel free to shoot them my way !  i believe that’s the gist of it, though. thanks so much again for going along with me on all of this !!

[deathofaninteriordecorator]

my 42 favorite quotes from code bc i’m avoiding homework again

“‘I re-jiggered the settings to ignore trash metal. No more false alarms.’ ‘No more anything. It just beeps.’” (12)

“‘This game is popular?’ Ben was sitting on his tackle box in the shade of a large elm. ‘Sounds pretty nerdtastic to me.’ ‘We can’t all practice birdscalls like you.’” (18)

“‘This watch is low-rent. Plus, I’m getting a new one for my birthday. But you owe me, Stolowitski.’ ‘Owe you what?’ Hi said. ‘Who wears a wristwatch anymore? Cavemen?’” (22)

“‘Coop really doesn’t like that box.’ I knelt and rubbed the edgy wolfdog’s snout. ‘It better not be stuffed with dead squirrels or something.’ … ‘It’s not a rodent coffin!’ Hi huffed. ‘This cache is legit. You’ll see.’” (22-23)

“‘Don’t use up too much drive space,’ I warned, watching the screen from over his shoulder. ‘We bought this stuff to research parvovirus, not so you can watch “Boom Goes the Dynamite” twenty times a day.’” (53)

“Frustrated, Hi rose and wandered to the computer. ‘I’m going to check my email.’ ‘I’m going to kill myself,’ Ben muttered. Shelton ignored them.” (56)

“Soooo many dorks,’ Ben muttered, his coal-black eyebrows forming a steep V. ‘A giant nerd army, digging up plastic boxes they hide for each other.’ ‘Like everything you do is cool,’ Hi snorted. ‘Still have that ninja costume you wore to my twelfth birthday party?’” (62)

“‘Wait.’ Ben glanced from face to face. ‘We’re actually going to pursue this nonsense? We suddenly care what this fruitcake hid in a box somewhere?’” (65)

“‘We’ve got over an hour before dark.’ I yanked my hair into a ponytail. ‘Let’s show Mr. Gamemaster how quickly Virals solve puzzles.’ … ‘We’ve got to work on our decision-making process.’ Shelton was shaking his head. ‘Right now, we just follow Tory over every cliff.’” (74)

“Hi called into the black. ‘Your cache is mine, clown! I’m coming to getcha! Uncle Hiram’s got the scent!’ His words echoed in the darkness as he scrambled through the opening. ‘Zip it!’ Shelton hiss-whispered. ‘This building is struggling to hold your buck-sixty. Don’t yodel the roof down on our heads.’” (82-83)

“‘This is stupid.’ Shelton started toward the doorway. ‘Let’s bounce. We can toss that iPad in the freaking harbor.’” (90)

“‘Watch where you’re going,’ Ben snapped. ‘I am,’ Jason said dryly. ‘I’m going to chat with Tory.’” (100)

“‘Hey, check this weirdo out.’ Hi was inspecting a bust on the mantel. ‘This face is ninety percent eyebrow. What do you wanna bet he owned slaves?’ Scowling to match the carving’s expression, Hi spoke in a gravelly voice. ‘In my day, we ate the poor people. We had a giant outdoor grill, and cooked up peasant steaks every Sunday.’” (106-107)

“‘State your business.’ ‘To see my father.’ A beat. ‘That’s usually going to be my business, FYI.’” (112)

“Hudson’s eyes narrowed. ‘Dodgeball?’ ‘District champs.’ Hi pounded his chest. ‘I’m a gunner. The key is to reach the balls first, and then throw with a little touch of spin, so that—’” (113)

“Jason had attended debutante balls. Knew the drill. My crew would have to conduct research on YouTube. Jason was popular on the cotillion scene. My guys weren’t even on the radar. Asking Jason would get Whitney off my back. Inviting only Morris Island boys might plummet her into a depression.” (132)

“I wore a white tank and jeans, shooting for ‘sexy-casual.’ Hoping it wasn’t ‘left farmhouse, got lost.’” (170)

“‘It has to mean something!’ Hi slapped a knee in frustration. Shelton glanced up from his iPhone, but when Hi didn’t elaborate he resumed surfing. … ‘Care to elaborate?’ I was sitting between Hi and Shelton in the stern. ‘Or was that a yoga move I don’t know?’” (233)

“Hi looked at me strangely. ‘We’re a little busy Friday night.’ ‘Busy? Doing what?’ The boys exchanged a look. Hi snorted. ‘I don’t know about you,’ Shelton said, ‘but I’m escorting my friend Victoria to her debutante ball.’” (235)

“‘Your advice, remember? No fear?’ Instantly regretted. I didn’t want Chance thinking about last summer. ‘Oh, I recall.’ Chance smiled thinly. ‘I haven’t crashed on your floor so many times that I’d forget.’” (240)

“‘I found something interesting,’ Marchant continued. ‘Are you free to meet? I’m headed out for a caffeine fix in thirty minutes.’ Um, what? Did this guy not understand I was fourteen? Bolton wasn’t big on students popping out for midday lattes.” (245)

“‘Ben, stop the boat.’ He looked at me funny. ‘We’re in the middle of the ocean, Victoria.’ ‘Stop the damn boat!’ Ben rolled eyes, but eased off the throttle. Sewee decelerated until we just bobbed along with the current. ‘Did you want to jump in?’ Ben asked dryly. ‘Water’s pretty cold in October.’” (251-252)

“‘Okay, people.’ Ben crossed his arms. ‘Care to share?’ ‘No big deal.’ Shelton’s tone was nonchalant. ‘Just a quick stop at Mepkin Abbey to get a new headshot of Mr. Dead Guy.’” (260)

“‘Options?’ Ben asked as he pulled out onto the highway. ‘I think some charitable work might be in order,’ Hi said. ‘I’m not a Jesus man, but I’m pretty sure getting ripped a new one by a monk is bad karma in any religion.’” (264)

“‘Oh man, she really did it this time!’ ‘Should we call the nurse?’ Panicky. ‘An ambulance?’ ‘And say what, exactly?’ hissed a third. ‘That our friend passed out after some bad telepathy?’” (271)

“‘She’s coming around!’ The roundest shape coalesced into Hi. ‘Tor? You okay? If you’ve gone vegetable, blink at me.’” (271)

“My splitting headache had proved the experiment had been dangerous. Had I learned my lesson? Probably not.” (273)

“Hi, naturally, had opted for flair. His tux was crushed purple velvet with tails, accented by all white silk—tie, vest, gloves, and suspenders. He completed the outfit with a freaking top hat and cane. Whitney had nearly fainted on seeing him.” (279)

“‘Those who enlist complete a rigorous program combining academics, physical fitness, and military discipline.’ … ‘So—book learning, push-ups, and war games.’ Hi ticked off fingers as he spoke. ‘Check, check, and check. Plus gray is my sexy color.’” (279)

“‘Paging Miss Brennan.’ Chance waved a hand before my eyes. ‘You okay?’ No. ‘Yes. I’m just…surprised I’ll be first.’ ‘I’m sure you’ll dazzle. Until then.’” (286)

“‘Gamemaster?’ Jason looked confused. ‘Search the basement? What are you talking about?’ ‘Oh, we’re, um, playing a pretty fierce game of Dungeons and Dragons,’ Hi stammered. ‘I’m, like, the head…unicorn master, and Tory has to find my magic…beans. Seeds.’” (299)

“‘Always trapped!’ Shelton actually stamped a foot. ‘Always underground! If we get out of here, I’m moving to a high-rise on a mountain-top. Penthouse! And y’all ain’t invited!’” (304)

“‘I assume there’s no antique cash register in need of special oil?’ Jason said. No one bothered to answer.” (331)

“He launched into an improvised tale of woe and misfortune. We’d found ourselves in the dark. Flustered and disoriented, we’d blundered through an emergency exit. Then we’d tumbled down a staircase in a complicated domino sequence that incorporated each one of us. The story was bizarre, confusing, and wildly improbable. They’d bought it without hesitation.” (333)

“‘Yet you four ripped the grate from its tracks. Then you ripped the tracks from the wall, bending the metal bars like they were drinking straws. How? How is that possible?’ ‘I read once where this guy in Ulan Bator powerlifted a Chinese tank after—’ ‘Can it, Stolowitski. Let Tory explain.’” (335)

“‘You look ready to chew nails.’ Shelton grinned at me from his own stoop. ‘There’s a certain murderer I’d like to chat with.’” (340)

“‘You okay, Tor?’ Shelton had a sandbag on one shoulder, hauled up from the beach. ‘We don’t have time for an ER run.’ ‘We could amputate,’ Hi suggested. ‘Shelton, get the whiskey.’” (342)

“‘I called Marchant’s office and left a message. Less than a minute later, my cell rang and March—’ I gritted my teeth, ‘—the Gamemaster asked me to meet him at City Lights Coffee. So I did.’ ‘So dumb,’ Hi muttered. ‘And it really was a murderer.’” (350)

“‘And you know this how?’ … ‘I dreamed it.’ ‘Aha! You dreamed it.’ Hi yawned and rubbed his eyes. ‘I think it’s time we get you medicated.’” (352)

“I turned on Ben and Hi. ‘What about you two? Ready to bail? There’s a deranged psycho out there who knows what your mothers eat for breakfast. That cool with you?’” (353)

“‘Any plan for that bit?’ Shelton asked dully. ‘You keep glossing over how we’re actually gonna make the citizen’s arrest.’ ‘Of course.’ I chucked his shoulder. ‘We’ll improvise.’ ‘Great. Well thought out.’” (362)

“‘You’re a hot, steaming ball of crazy,’ Hi said. ‘You know that, right? Freaking Looney Tunes.’” (373)

[jakekosty]

Audience Studies Week #7

This week’s blog is about interpreting and decoding mass media texts. What distinguishes media interpretation from other uses-oriented theories of audiences is that the main concern shifts here to the content of the media rather than asking what motivates audiences to select media content. Scholars and media interpretation look even more closely to how audiences respond to specific aspects of media content. Looking at the Granelli and Zenor article, Decoding “The Code”: Reception Theory and Moral Judgment of Dexter, the question arises asking, why dexter? “For many decades, media psychologists have also been interested in how audiences interpret texts, especially media that contains behaviour that is considered to be morally reprehensible” (Granelli & Zenor, p. 5058). Dexter is a show based on situational ethics and the revenge and punishment to the people that deserve it. I believe that the reason shows like Dexter (House, Breaking Bad, House of Cards, etc.) are so popular considering the protagonist’s actions seem to be in conflict with the viewer’s moral code because the audience could either potentially wish that they could break moral codes in the real worlds, or just because they feel a sense of enjoyment when watching bad people go down by violence. I watch certain shows like this because for me personally, I enjoy watching violent shows that involves justice and revenge. I think that because these kinds of situations and the story lines of these shows do not happen as much in real life, it gives me a sense of enjoyment to imagine an unrealistic view of what is not currently happening in the real world. I also think that knowing the protagonist is doing something that is morally wrong gives a sense of excitement. I believe everybody at times in their lives wants to have a little bit of “badass” in them. I think that it is thrilling for people and gives them a rush that they don’t usually get to feel, and by watching these kinds of shows or movies it helps people feel a little bit more emotion in the direction of being a “badass”. Granelli and Zenor create these types of respondents to the show. Factor 1 is Justified Vigilante, Factor 2 is Psychological Puzzle, Factor 3 Gratuitous Murder, Factor 4 is Deviant Escapism. Each factor is people that are broken up based on their beliefs on the show. Based off the four factors I believe I would categorize myself in Factor 4 deviant Escapism. This factor labels Dexter as an anti-hero and they believe he is a crazy sociopath, and he knows what he is doing is wrong. They believe that the message of the show is on the deviance of the character and it shows that we never know what someone is capable of and there is no pleasure taken in the murder of criminals, but they admit to having a sick sense of humor. It is not hard for people in this factor to watch the show, and they enjoy watching the show because it is stirring and emotional.  I do not find myself admiring Dexter, but I also do not find myself hating him. I can basically understand that there is so much violence and revenge because this is a show and it is meant for entertainment, but in real life this would not necessarily happen nor is it okay to believe that murder is the only/best revenge. Looking at negotiated meaning, this is a turning point in audience reception studies, the first study to look empirically and systematically at audience interpretations of television. Secondly, audiences are capable of producing their own meanings. Another term that I find extremely interesting is intertextuality. Intertextuality is “the process of connecting our media experiences together, this can be defined as the fundamental and inescapable interdependence of all textual meaning upon the structures of meaning proposed by other texts” (Gray, 2006). Basically, intertextuality is the experiences in our lives that help us decode and interact with content we receive as audience members, as well as the content of media that we receive that helps us decode content. The reason this term is so intriguing to me is that you can base intertextuality off of anything really. Interests that you have, movies and TV shows that you watch, YouTube frequently viewed, what you choose to follow on your social media accounts, etc. The experiences in your life can really affect a person in the future, along with the media that they come across. These experiences can help you decode content in certain ways that shape how your life will go. For example, a life experience that I have had that I believe has shaped the content that I receive is during tubing at my cottage. I was on a three-person tube with two of my friends while getting pulled off the back of the boat. While the boat was turning, we hit a wave that sent all three of us flying. I ended up smacking my head against the water really hard and sustaining a concussion. Ever since then I have never been on a tube again, nor can I even watch content of other people tubing. This may seem like a very pointless problem but because of my personal experience and even seeing other people wipe out on tubes through the media, I have a serious fear of tubing now. I still enjoy participating in every other water sport including skiing, wakeboarding, barefoot skiing, etc. but never will I ever get back on a tube again. I am sure everybody has their own experiences that are either major or minor but regardless of what they are it will affect out that person decodes content as an audience member throughout their lifetime. At the end of the highlight video, Professor Good begins to talk about semiotics, which is the sign, signified, and signifier. I have always found these terms interesting. When looking at a logo you can identify what it is physically, but you can also identify what it stands for, or means. You can determine if they are desirable, not desirable, if they are cool, not cool, if you want it or would not want it, etc. People view certain symbols with a lot of meaning that help people communicate.

[lefthandactivist]

The Beginner’s Guide

If you haven’t been able to tell, I play quite a few video games. My steam library has too many to properly pay attention to, and I have to be careful of how much time I spend gaming instead of other practical hobbies.

So when I say that I return to the same games over and over, there can be different reasons for this. Some (like skyrim and minecraft) offer a world where I know pretty much all the rules. I can do quite a bit just within those spaces, and it’s often how I cool down after a stressful day. Others, (darksouls and metroidvania titles) offer bite-size challenges that I can hit head on in my own time. 

But there are a couple of games that left me with something else, something that makes me return to them in the same way I return to certain books. One of these is “The Beginners Guide”.

Now, there are definately spoilers ahead, so if you have any interest in playing this game yourself, do so before reading please (knowing anything going in will probably color your experience, I’m not joking). Furthermore, if hundreds of words on a linear, minimal gameplay indie game doesn’t interest you, feel free to skip over this one. As always, this is mainly to get my own thoughts down (you’ll see why). 

Wow are all of my posts going to start with me telling my readers to not read from now on? Well now that I’m alone with my thoughts, lets discuss.

The Beginners Guide comes from the “same developer” as The Stanley Parable. A game that I enjoyed so much for what it does that when this new title was dropped on steam I bought it pretty much immediately, making it I believe my 300th title owned from the marketplace. I played through it not long after and then proceeded to listen to some sappy music to get myself back in order. If you let it, this game can hit you hard. But once again, I’m probably biased.

The game comes in chapters, each one a different game developed by the narrator’s friend, “Coda”. Nothing is left out of experience to suggest whether this is a true story so we’ll approach it as any other experience.

Chapter 1: Whisper. More establishing dialogue about how these games are incomplete or abandoned in most cases. The interesting points here for me are the labyrinth in the space station (reminds me of the quote “how will I ever get out of this labyrinth? Read Looking For Alaska read John Green!), and what happens when you step into the beam. floating up and seeing the whole level, I remember how these games are made, room brushes and objects, physics code and player camera. this game takes every chance it can to remind you that games have an author. 

Chapter 2: Backwards. I love the ideas in this level. the first time there was a definite “ohhh” moment when I realized what was going on. If I were to play a single level multiple times, this would be one for that, just so I can read the story written on these walls.

Entering, stairs, walls, exiting: I’m going to ignore what the narrator says about these levels. I do think they serve some connected purpose, but I like it more as an act of spite. These ideas are mine, better make the hard (or impossible) to access. as somebody who’s had story ideas floating around with them for a while, I’m always weary to share them, in case someone grabs it and runs away with it before I can do anything with it. Which probably means I should just write the stories instead of all of this..

Chapter 7: Down. The narrator finishes telling us that the engine is best at blocky empty corridors just as we enter an expansive cavern full of slanted geometry. This was the first hint to me that the narrator may not be reliable in all respects - he’s right about the engine, but that’s not what Coda decides to do with it. At the bottom we stay in a cell, which the narrator lets us out of before the allotted hour intended by Coda, which marks the fifth time he openly edits the levels to suit his need. Then we get to the puzzle.

I’m going to talk a little about this puzzle later, but when we get through it, in game dialogue keeps asking us about the puzzle, how we got through it, telling us it’s impossible. We can’t tell them how easy it is to pass through, and in some cases we have to lie to them. then the level ends with the first light post.

Chapter 8: Notes. It was replaying this level that made me want to talk about this game. Here we see a world Coda says is full of other player’s notes. The narrator reveals that they were all written by Coda. It’s convincing, they all sound like they came right from a youtube comment string or reddit thread. I immediately heard this as Coda saying. “your messages into the void are messages into the void.” In a way, he’s criticizing what I’m trying to do here, talking about the game, analyzing it. But the narrator reads this as some troubled artist who needs someone to connect to. The thoughts don’t seem to be written in Coda’s voice, but the narrator sees them that way. 

The level ends with the puzzle again. The narrator sees it as a cut off point, a end of a thought so Coda can move on. I get where he’s coming from, that’s what a lot of these posts do for me, but I think there’s something else going on. this puzzle is easy to the player, but the notes in this level and the talking characters in the last have no idea how you do it. It’s like a ski’ll that other people value and desire, that just comes naturally. I think Coda, if he’s saying anything here, is saying that. He’s able to make these games and say things with them, but he can’t explain how to do it, so the attention he gets about the process itself feels a bit misplaced.

Chapter 9: Escape. Coda makes a series of “prison” levels. each one is different, but they all hold the same idea, there will be some way to escape, but then the escape fails. The narrator hates these, he thinks coda is spending too much time on these prisons, and worries that it isn’t healthy. I think it’s natural, though. Someone described writing as choosing book after book from an infinite library, picking one that added the right next word or changing a previous one, until you land on the perfect book, one that’s always been there but nobody’s looked at before, and you leave with that one. Imagine seeing the room of previous books, would you think the author was obsessed? editing and refining is a natural part of the process.

Chapter 10: House. “You can’t stay in the dark space for too long, you just can’t. You have to keep moving, it’s how you survive”. 

I really like this level. I like how the chores loop but we get new dialogue with our cleaning partner. I like the calm music and how peaceful it is. I feel Coda would’ve had a similar reaction, which is why he made it and was so happy about it. And I hate how the narrator ends it. Describing this life as stagnation, as not living. This level is a lot like the nothing I wrote about last year, or how I feel when I’m doing work with someone and just being in that moment. The narrator takes that away.

Chapter 11: the narrator hits this one pretty much on the head, and I don’t have much to add.

Chapter 12: Theater. This level got to me. The pressure to say the right thing, the yelling at your own self to do better, the solution being to withdraw and hide away. 

This is a performance. Put on your mask and play the part assigned to you.

Chapter 13: Mobius. You can’t play this with your eyes closed, as instructed. you have to see to find out what’s going on, and you have to move. and then someone tells you to tell the truth. these games are draining you, you can’t make new ideas, you don’t know where else to go. and so the level stops.

Yeah, I’ve felt that before.

Chapter 14: Island. 

There’s a lie we tell that the work you do and claim t’o love has to be easy and worthwhile and enjoyable 100% of the time. we say that relationships are only true if they are effortless, that passion is only true if it is effortless, that stumbling blocks mean you were never going to succeed because it should be effortless.

So we lie. We all lie. Because there’s no truth to that. But it’s what we say to keep others from worrying.

Chapter 15: Machine.

But sometimes that isn’t enough, you have to stop. And when an audience demands you to keep going, but you can’t, they can turn on you. Feeling responsible for your audience, needing to meet their expectations because you know they demand it. It’s notable, that whether you destroy the machine or all the things it’s created, the result is the same.

The narrator doesn’t see this. He needs that social encouragement. Coda wants nothing to do with it.

Chapter 16: The tower.

. This level doesn’t want to be played, the narrator makes it playable.

. The narrator reveals that he had to add an end to the house level. it used to loop the chores forever.

. “I feel like a failure, I guess. When I can’t fix the problem”.

. an author isn’t his works. the works are not the author.

a hallway ends with a message on a wall. “Dear Davey, thank you for your interest in my games. I need to ask you to not speak to me anymore”.

And here’s where I stopped. There are other messages, about how the light posts were added by the narrator, how Coda didn’t want him showing his work to others. Messages talking about how the narrator had taken advantage of Coda’s work. And those messages are important, at least to the narrative. But those aren’t the messages that hit me.

These are:

“When I’m around you I feel physically ill”.

“You desperately need something and I cannot give it to you. I literally do not have it”.

“The fact that you think I am frustrated or broken says more about you than about me”.

Because I’ve been there. I’ve done exactly that. And that person pushed me away in much the same way.

And I had to let them. Because what I was taking was never mine to take. And I sure as hell wasn’t giving in return.

The end of this game, what comes after the tower, is important; you should hear it. but, maybe not here? This game is about authorship, and I find it important for that reason as well, but when I reach the end, all thoughts of that are replaced with thoughts on people. I had to write this one chapter at a time as I replayed it, because here I forget ever trying to see meaning in it other than this: “What a treacherous thing to believe that a person is more than a person”.

I cite Paper Towns and Ender’s Game and Catcher in the Rye, but this game was important for that, too. It put that thought into motion, let me control the tempo. playing through it again, I remember why I closed out of it the last time.

It serves well to remember, but “It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.”

[dartlekey]

A Tale of Things Lost

Chapter 4: Sleep

Summary: Mistakes are made. So is breakfast. Inukawa's bed is surprisingly wide, but his siblings are a pain.

Notes: I wish I had a best friend like Takenaka. By the end of this chapter, so will you, I hope.

Previous chapter | First chapter

*

Takenaka hated Football games with a passion.

You'd think the destruction of half of Spices City would at least deter the organizers from scheduling another game, but no. According to the dude on TV, it was actually “in defiance of this tragedy” that the game was held. Takenaka wished they could save their defiance for another time - perhaps when he wasn't trying to sleep.

Sighing, he rolled over on his bed and grabbed his phone. Once he'd stopped squinting from the harsh glare of the screen, he opened his tumblr blog, hoping that looking through his aesthetic tag would make him drowsy enough to block the voices - only that he was almost immediately interrupted by the message icon popping up.

What's Inukawa doing up at 12:30 am, he thought tiredly, and checked the message.

You still awake? ʕ•ﻌ•ʔ, Inukawa had written. The cutesy emoji were normal for him; Takenaka often had fun imagining Inukawa's actual expression as he typed those - he suspected it was the same he wore when they were alone, which was somewhere between ‘ugh’ and ‘dead inside’.

Yeah, why? Takenaka texted back. The “...” symbol came up almost immediately, but stayed there for quite a while, occasionally disappearing only to come back up seconds later. Takenaka frowned at his screen. This did not bode well.

He was staring at the screen so hard it took him a few seconds to realize that Inukawa had finally sent his response.

 …because I think I kinda had a panic attack just now (￣□￣;;) Thought you should know, since you’re my mental health rep or whatevs ﾍ(￣▽￣*)ﾉ  

Takenaka dropped his phone on his face in shock. For a few seconds he just lay there, dazed - then he sat up and grabbed his jacket from his desk chair. Be there in ten. Stay put. He didn't wait for the response, instead hurrying out of his room and down the stairs, trusting in the fact that his mother was a heavy sleeper.

He arrived at Inukawa’s house seven minutes later huffing from exhaustion. One week of body improvement club hadn't exactly increased his endurance much; or actually at all, it felt like - at least he hadn't had that far to go.

Inukawa's head was already sticking out of his window, glaring at Takenaka in disbelief. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Providing emotional support,” Takenaka said, “Now let me in, it's freezing out here.”

“Wha- you can't just come in! My parents are watching TV in the living room, they'll see you walk down the hallway - and they won't be happy, seeing as it's one in the morning, and I'm still grounded for disappearing for two weeks.”

Takenaka frowned. “Why would they watch TV at quarter to one in the first place?”

“How should I kn- what are you doing.”

“Climbing through your window. Good thing you're on the ground floor, I don't think I'd be able to scale your house's drain.”

“Takenaka, I swear-”

“Shush. I'm concentrating.”

So he said, then slipped and fell through the window, faceplanting onto Inukawa's bedroom floor. “Ouch.”

“You sure you were concentrating?” Inukawa quipped, looking down at him with no move to help him up. Takenaka shot him a glare, carefully touching his nose to check for bleeding. “A little gratitude would be nice, you know.”

“Gratitude for what? I didn't ask you to come here.”

“Yes you did,” Takenaka snapped, harsher than he'd meant to. “I know you, Inukawa; you wouldn't have texted me unless you were desperate for help - so a few concerned words on the screen would hardly have sufficed as comfort. Your hands are still shaking, for fucks sake.”

Inukawa looked down in surprise, and quickly shoved his trembling hands into his pockets. “Oh. Ah.“

Takenaka sighed, and sat down on the bed, brushing off an empty bag of chips. “So. Wanna talk about it? “

Inukawa hesitated. “I don’t really - uh… Could we just look at the stars for now?”  God, this is embarrassing. But it does help me calm down...

Takenaka nodded, a bit taken aback by Inukawa's odd request - but he had no reason not to comply. “The stars? Uh, sure.”

Inukawa sat down next to him on the bed, which was, conveniently, directly opposite the window. Takenaka looked out, and was surprised by the amount of stars they could see despite being in a city. I guess Inukawa lives in a place with little light pollution. Lucky him.

Takenaka glanced back at Inukawa and was suddenly struck by how young he looked, with his fearful eyes set on the stars outside, shaking hands crumpling the blanket beneath him. Inukawa was fourteen, he had to remind himself, just like himself; a second year in middle school. Going on age alone, his eyes shouldn't yet hold as much bitterness as they did, and the happy smiles that danced over his face so often shouldn't be fake. Neither should his own, for that matter; neither of them deserved the curses they'd been afflicted with, and Takenaka felt an irrational surge of anger at the world for being so uncaring.

But he kept his silence, and watched the stars, and soon enough his anger had dissipated. No wonder that people have been stargazing for millennia, he thought curiously; it makes you feel oddly peaceful.  

Well, unless you really disliked space for some reason. “Is this okay for you? I mean, doesn't looking at the stars remind you of… uh…”

“Of Moetyl?”, Inukawa finished, his attempt at nonchalance lost to the tremble of his voice. “No. Actually, rather the opposite - since I never saw the stars from there…”

At seeing Takenaka's confused expression, he explained, ”You see, Moetyl has no day or night because of their planet's rotation. It's like earth and the moon - you know, like people all around the world only ever see one side of the moon because its rotation around itself correlates in a certain way to its rotation around earth? So, the N’Eivackh have the same thing going on, if you equate their sun to earth and their planet to the moon - so basically, half the planet is always dark, and the other half always light. And I was slap-bang in the middle of the central sunny continent. The only way I could keep track of time was my wristwatch... “

Takenaka nodded, wondering how Inukawa knew so much about the other planet's strange rotation patterns but knowing better than to ask. After all, he probably doesn’t know either, how he got that information. “Permanent sun, huh? Good thing they don't have vampires. Or do they?”

 Inukawa laughed, his voice cracking in a way that sounded suspiciously like a sob. “No, at least not that. But it was shit as a human as well, you know - it was so draining. You wouldn't believe how hard it is to get proper rest without nighttime; I was permanently exhausted... anyway, looking at the night sky here reminds me that I'm definitely back on earth.”

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, for once a tangled mess instead of the neat bob Takenaka had grown used to. “That's actually what set me off, more or less. I turned the main lights off to go to sleep but I’d forgotten that my desk lamp was on - and, well, the desk being right next to the window, I only processed myself turning off the lights but bright light coming from outside after midnight and I…”

He took a deep breath and exhaled shakily, revealing how high-strung he still was. “I just lost it completely. I thought I was back on Moetyl, and that I’d… that I’d die there alone, and never see another human soul again. That I’d either go mad or kill myself, and didn’t know which sounded worse. Or that I’d never die and be stuck there for eternity…”

He managed another sob-chuckle. “Now that I say it out loud, it sounds ridiculous, but it seemed so incredibly real at the time. I - God, I was so afraid…”

Takenaka didn’t know what to say to that - but he knew what to do. So he shifted closer to his best friend and shared something he usually hated to talk about simply from the shame of it… Strangely enough, in front of Inukawa, he didn’t feel ashamed at all.

“When I was younger, I used to cry every time there was a big game in Spices City. Didn’t matter what sport, I didn’t know the difference back then anyway, nor did I care. I hadn’t discovered earplugs yet, and the whole city converging in a mass of sound and emotion was an absolutely terrifying experience. My parents couldn’t even begin to understand what I was suffering through - to them, I was sobbing and screaming for no reason, and my dad gave up trying to help when I flinched away from his touch. But my mom was stubborn, and eventually found something that worked to calm me down... She’d have me lie on my stomach like so,” he pushed the other boy sideways, and Inukawa obediently flopped onto his stomach, eyes glinting curiously in the moonlight. “And then she’d draw circles on my back, like so…” He began the pattern, three little circles, then three big ones, then the little ones again - and repeat.

“The SOS pattern?” Inukawa realized, after a few rounds. “Yeah,” Takenaka said quietly. “I loved morse code as a kid, since it’s the one language with no ugly subtext - plus it has a kind of puzzle feeling to it. A mind game, you know? And Mom knew I loved it, so she built it into her pats for me to figure out... Oh, and she sang to me, those cheesy songs that always came on the American radio. Her English was terrible, but I still loved it…”

He paused, and made a face. “I’m not singing for you though, just so you know.”

Inukawa laughed, and it sounded a bit more real this time. “I should hope not. I heard you at last years’ school festival, you can’t hold a tune for shit.”

“Hey!”, Takenaka protested, but he did it with a smile; Inukawa having his nasty sense of humor back seemed like a good sign. And since he never told Takenaka to stop, he continued drawing circles on Inukawa's back,  switching symbols after a while - stars, smiley faces, fishes; whatever came to mind.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed when he realized that Inukawa had fallen asleep. Sighing, Takenaka stretched, swinging his feet over the edge of the bed. He should head home, really; there was no point in staying…

 But the bed was super comfortable. And it really was cold outside…

Okay, five minutes, Takenaka told himself as he stretched out next to Inukawa. Close your eyes for five minutes, then head home.  

 *

Definitely more than five minutes later, Takenaka woke to a shrill ringing, his limbs entangled with someone else's.

“Ugh, Tetsu,” Inukawa grumbled even before his eyes were open, “I told you not to just climb into my bed uninvi-” He immediately fell silent as soon as his eyes opened. “You're… not my little brother.”

“Uh, no,” Takenaka said awkwardly, extricating himself from the tangle of legs and blankets. “Sorry, I really didn't mean to fall asleep here, it just kinda happened - Ohgodmymomisgonnakillme.”

In his haste, he fell out of the bed, slamming into Inukawa's floor for the second time that day. “What is it with me and floors,” he muttered as he searched for the alarm clock, which was still ringing loudly. “Ah there it - is…”

He looked up at Inukawa with surprise. “Why's your alarm set for so early?”

Inukawa chuckled. “Breakfast and bentos for everyone don't make themselves, you know.”

Takenaka opened his mouth only to close it again, feeling like a spoiled only child not for the last time. “Right. Then I'll leave you to that. Uh, see you at school?” Well, that would have been a good plan - but it seemed his stomach had awoken at the mention of breakfast, as it was now growling loudly. Takenaka flushed scarlet, wishing the floor would swallow him. This was not his morning.

Surprisingly, instead of a sharp-tongued witticism he received a sleepy smile from Inukawa. “Wanna have breakfast here?”

Takenaka frowned. “Uh, what about your parents?”

Inukawa waved a hand dismissively as he lazily swung his feet out of bed. “Don't worry. My dad's already left for work, and Mom doesn't roll out of bed until Tetsu needs to be taken to preschool.”

Takenaka hesitated, but breakfast did sound a lot more enticing than walking home in the early morning chill with an empty stomach. “...Alright then. Lead the way.”

 *

The first thing Inukawa did after entering the kitchen was put on the water boiler.

“Coffee?”, he asked. Takenaka nodded enthusiastically. “God, yes. I don’t think I’ll survive today otherwise.” Inukawa chuckled, and nodded towards the big round table dominating the centre of the room. “Sit down, if you want. I’m starting on the food.”

Takenaka sat down, curiously watching Inukawa juggle ingredients, pots and pans with practised ease. Apart from the occasional night when his mom was out on a date trying to find another step-dad for him, Takenaka had never cooked for himself before; he was sure that if he’d attempted to prepare so many things simultaneously, he would’ve lost track and burned something…

“Milk? Sugar?”

Takenaka blinked, then shook his head at Inukawa, who’d just placed a steaming mug in front of him. “Ah, no thanks. I drink it black.”

Inukawa stared at him, disbelief mingling with disgust. “You barbarian.”

Takenaka grinned and took a long slurp. Inukawa squeezed his eyes shut and turned back around to the kitchen isle. “Are you serious? Right in front of my salad?”

Takenaka choked on the coffee, cough-laughing as Inukawa returned to his cooking. “Serves you right,” Inukawa said smugly, then yawned. “Ugh. I need some caffeine too.” He stepped over to the water boiler, then back to Takenaka, then quickly shuffled to the stove again, where something had started to bubble. Takenaka looked down at the item Inukawa had placed off to the side - a small mug with the hiragana for “Mameta” clumsily scrawled across its surface, probably by a young Inukawa. Steaming away inside cup was a teabag; the label told Takenaka it was white tea.

Takenaka grinned. His dad called white tea “sissy tea”, because it was delicate and sweet instead of strong and bitter like green or black tea - of course Inukawa, with his sweet tooth and intense dislike for bitter things, would drink that for breakfast. He was extra that way.

Takenaka took another deep gulp of coffee, then paused curiously as he began to hear music drifting from a small speaker system above the stove. “Is that… the Breath Of The Wild OST?”

Inukawa glanced over, continuing to whisk eggs in a small bowl. “You’ve played the game? Didn’t think you were the type.”

Takenaka shook his head, embarrassed. “Ah, no. I just like listening to gaming soundtracks when I’m out and around people. No vocals, so I still get a break from the voices, but not dry like classical stuff. It’s just… relaxing, I guess.”

“Hmm,” hummed Inukawa thoughtfully, tossing the eggs into a pan. “I see.”

They spent the next few minutes in silence, just listening to the soundtrack drifting across the kitchen, but as the coffee woke him up properly, Takenaka grew restless. “Hey, is there anything I can help you with?”

“Eh,” Inukawa deadpanned, not even turning this time, “I'd rather you don't, you'll get in my way.”

“Oh.”

Takenaka awkwardly took another sip of coffee. Well, that sucked, even though he knew Inukawa was right. Still didn't help him feel less dumb -

He looked up in surprise as Inukawa placed down an array of bowls in front of him, as well as five lunchboxes of varying sizes. “You can arrange the bentos - wash your hands first, though.”

Takenaka nodded, jogging over to the sink already as he tried to hide his smile. Now that was a part of cooking he could manage. I guess Inukawa can be thoughtful, if he wants to be.  

“If I may ask,” he said as he started scooping the food into the boxes, “what was the food on Moetyl like?”

Even with his earplugs still in and Inukawa's back turned, Takenaka could feel the dislike radiating from the other boy.

“Let's just say some of it was still moving.”

“Ew!”, Takenaka responded incredulously. “Really?”

Inukawa laughed. “Really. Oh, they had this pink jelly stuff though, it tasted like marshmallows with cinnamon. Nina would have loved it.”

“Did you say my name, Mame-chan?”, a sleepy voice from the doorway said - then gasped, now clearly awake, “Holy shit. Haru-chan, come quick, you gotta see this."

A taller girl (maybe twelve?) appeared in the doorway next to the twin-tailed monster, looking curiously inside the kitchen - then her eyes caught on Takenaka, sitting as he was at the kitchen table in yesterday's crumpled clothes and his messy morning hair. “Wow. I… was not expecting that.”

“I told you he was Mametas boyfriend! You owe me 500 yen.”

Inukawa choked, then spluttered, “Wha- he's not my boyfriend! We're just-”

“Just friends?”, Nina quipped dubiously as her older sister gave Takenaka a disbelieving stare. “Really, Mame-chan? You’re telling me that as he sits at our table with his sex hair?”

Takenaka's jaw dropped. “My what?” How does she even know what that is at her age? She barely looks nine! ...No wonder Inukawa has trouble with his family.  

“Now, don't jump to conclusions, Nina,” Haru said calmly as she walked to the table and sat down across from Takenaka. “Maybe they're just friends with benefits.” Nina frowned as Takenaka made a strangled wheezing noise. “What's that?”

Inukawa interrupted before Haru could respond. “Not something you should know until you're older. Actually, not something Haru should know either; I think I need to tell Mom to stop letting you buy those BL manga…” He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Let's just agree that this conversation never happened and have breakfast.”

Nina frowned. “What? No! I want compensation for my bet - give me my 500 yen, then we'll have breakfast.”

Inukawa raised an eyebrow. “You really think I'm going to spend money on your dumbass bets about my love life?”

She smirked. “Actually, yes. Because mom doesn't know about your boyfriend… ah, I mean, special friend staying over - and I bet you don't want her to know.” She paused, her eyes widening. “Wait, is that what benefits means?”

Takenaka stared at the unfolding fight, quite stunned at his first encounter of ‘love amongst siblings’. Inukawa on the other hand seemed quite used to it, as he just scowled, eyes narrowing at the little devil. “Fine. But stop calling him my boyfriend, that feels gross and I don't want to lose my appetite.”

While Takenaka probably should have felt insulted, he didn't; rather he felt the same way. He was well aware that usually people who were just friends didn't randomly visit each other at 1am, even if the other was in trouble... and they certainly didn't sleep in the same bed, cuddling. (Not that that bit had been on purpose.) But even so, with Inukawa it had felt so natural, so easy - no attraction, no butterflies or whatever was supposed to float around your stomach and turn your brain into mush; just a connection of two weary minds, enjoying each others company. Calling it dating somehow felt insulting to the understanding they had.

Not that Nina seemed to get it. “Maybe~”, she just intoned in a sing-song voice, sauntering over.

Takenaka frowned. Now this was unnecessary, although perhaps… Ah, bingo. “Actually,” he said, immediately gaining everyone's attention, ”Inukawa doesn't owe you anything. Well, not unless you want him to tell your mother that you only scored 23 points on that last maths test.”

Takenaka's gaze was met by three wide open pairs of eyes. He smiled innocently. “I finished the bentos, by the way. Can we eat now? I'm starving.”

Haruka was the first to respond, grinning widely for the first time that morning. “You know what? I don't care what he is to you, nii-san - but you definitely gotta keep him.”

Inukawa didn't even respond verbally this time, he just grabbed his tea and took a big gulp.

 Ugh, I'm not old enough for this.

[j-philly-b]

OUaT 7x02 – Thoughts & Observations

“I’ll send an SOS to the world; I hope that someone gets my message in a bottle.”

           - The Police, Message in a Bottle

Ugh, seriously? We’re back to this bullshit? I thought we were done with the realm that shall not be named. But no, instead we’re going to be reminded of it on a weekly basis. Or at least I will be, because my anger over that entire plotline is unflagging.

But I am talented in unhealthy avoidance techniques, and will likely continue on because (1) I am a glutton for punishment, (e) Colin O’Donoghue’s face, and (!) I can’t stop myself from trying to puzzle this show out. Hi, my name is Joanne and I can’t get OUaT.

 Random Thoughts:

I was not prepared to say goodbye to Killian Jones, he of the multiple redemption and hero arcs. It was that and the high expectations I had for a story written by Jane and Jerome that left me in a pit of despair after the episode was over. I’ve gone through my stages of grief, I am almost at acceptance, almost.

I am relieved that CS have their happy ending/beginning together in SB. While I’m in the they don’t need a baby to be happy camp, it’s a fine development and everyone’s fic with a CS kid post-S6 is perfectly valid and canon compliant. So there’s that!

I know that many viewers, including myself, took Emma and Killian’s concern as an implication that they had a difficult time conceiving, maybe even suffering a miscarriage at some point. I’m going to go the lighter route and assume that Killian’s penchant for leather pants and skinny jeans slowed down the baby making process, which is why we saw him show up in the alt!EF in regular blue jeans.

I loved how Killian jumped into action and was instantly stabby as soon as he and Regina showed up in response to Henry’s call. Struck me as a very strong parental instinct to go on the offensive like that when you get a distress call from your kid.

Emma tells Henry that she has to give Henry what he gave her – family, and she starts by giving him Hook 2. Then Henry keeps Regina – and no one in SB is complaining because obviously Regina has absolutely nothing in SB and can walk away on a whim, what else do you do with a middle-aged woman with no spouse or child to look after?

I’m bitter because I can’t believe A&E or J&J put me in a position to feel defensive over Regina.

Interesting that being in the alt!EF meant that Regina and Emma’s magic wouldn’t work. But here’s the thing, Regina’s use of magic in the beginning showed us two things – her magic worked when she was protecting her TL, but didn’t work when she was to cast a locator spell. Subtle foreshadowing of what was to come later with Emma and Hook 2.

 Hook 2 using Killian’s blood to become him may have created a deeper connection than simply surface appearance. So not only was Emma able to connect to him by recognizing the man he could be, used to be, but maybe whatever it is that makes TL a physical manifestation was also able to recognize something in Hook 2 because of that blood connection? I’m not being clear, but I think this blood connection and TL is going to come up again for Hook 2 and his daughter. I am really leaning toward the daughter being created using some form of blood magic.

So Hook 2 has a daughter and now we’re going to be following his story. In a way, it makes sense, it allows CS peace and to continue living their happily ever after without unnecessary angst and separation. I just don’t know if I feel as invested in Hook 2 as I was in Killian Jones.

I had work it out in my head when Hook 2’s path diverged from Killian. I’m going with the wish realm diverging at the point of the flashbacks in the Cricket Game – in the wish realm Snow’s attempt to banish Regina worked, and she was no longer a threat to them from that point on. Therefore, Hook 2 never sang with Snowing and did not kill his father to leave Liam 2.0 an orphan out for revenge.

“I’ve always tried to do good.” Where did that come from with Hook 2? Did he turn around when his daughter was born? Was that his “you can be a part of something” moment?

I’m assuming his fall back into darkness was when his heart was poisoned/cursed and he was stopped from seeing his daughter. I’m just… ARGH!!! Another Hook redemption arc? Yeah, I’m still not quite over it yet.

Hook 2 roaming the realms looking for TL to cure his poisoned/cursed heart and then trying to use Killian’s connection with Emma for that purpose tells us what? That Hook 2 thought himself incapable of TL, and maybe now feels guilty that he didn’t try hard enough or believe in himself enough to save his daughter? That now that he has his second chance he will fulfill his role as his daughter’s white knight?

I like the carry through to HH and seeing that Rogers does not like hearing Henry’s daughter referred to as a vulnerability.

Roger’s curse memories of Emma are not too far afield from the truth. Their cursed personalities aren’t too far off from their true-selves either. Very unlike Regina’s curse when she tried to suppress people’s true selves. We’ve seen how Jacinda isn’t afraid to push back against Victoria, how Rogers, Regina, and Henry were able to come together easily, and how Rumple is on the periphery of that as well. So was the curse cast for evil intent or not?

Ok, so I think I called it last week with Weaver being the one to get Rogers promoted and reassigned to him. I’m sticking with my theory that Rumple knows what is going on and is more involved in the curse than we think at this point. It was more heavy-handed in this episode, mainly because there was more Weaver in this episode, but I’m fine with a Rumple that plays on both sides of the fence. I’m wondering if Weaver’s relationship with Victoria is a case of keeping your enemies close?

Interesting that Weaver was not included in the final scene with Roni, Rogers, and Henry.

 Also interesting that Weaver doesn’t push Roni when she says no, not the tactic we’ve been lead to believe he usually follows.

The shot of Weaver and Rogers from behind the bookcase in Henry’s apartment was great. The view of them was slightly obscured, Rogers is in the light, Weaver is in the dark. I like how it framed their characters at that point in time.

 The matching denim jackets of Rogers and Weaver, was there a Starsky & Hutch in the alt!EF?

So Weaver was testing Rogers’ moral core, why?

 Hook 2 is very good at strategizing, probably all the chess, but Rogers was way ahead of Weaver when he thought to grab Henry’s keys before they left the apartment. Not a surprise that Rogers has a healthy distrust of Weaver and can look out for himself.

 Random Observations:

Why are there no evil Kermit memes with Hook 2 in the hood confronting Killian?

Captain Youthful!

I also liked Killian referring to Hook 2 and his existence in the realm to be ignored as a bad dream, not real, a cracked mirror, and a twisted version of the truth.

Why do LT and Tiana jump to Henry being in love with Cinderella/Jacinda? They’ve known each other a total of ten minutes.

THE HAND!!!

Henry is a total hipster.

“I gotta hop.” “You must have a fairy godmother somewhere.” Tiana gets all the good lines.

Lady Tremaine uses that wand a helluva a lot for someone who doesn’t rely on magic.

Ok, but what did Gabrielle’s teenage daughter think about her mother getting all up in Colin’s face like that?

Tune in next week when Weave tests out his Welsh accent!

The Nancy Drews! Even before Weaver pulled the book off the shelf, I knew what they were by the yellow binding. My dad bought me one a week for a little over a year when I was kid. I’m getting teary just thinking about it…

Henry looking for buried family and “keeps hitting dead ends”? Yeesh

Ivy wearing a green shirt with fleur de lis in her first scene with Jacinda – green for a reason?

Jacinda can save herself. We get it, we’ve also heard it before.

How exactly did Hook 2 wind up stabbed?

Emma does have a little bit of a bump when they’re sitting on that log.

Why is Killian so angry when he throws that bean? Does he know Emma has terrible aim when it comes to portals and he’s worried she might run on the wrong side of it?

Henry creeping on Cinderella’s bedroom.

Of course Killian has another magical method of communication. Shellphones, messages in a bottle, does he keep a coop for talking seagulls on the Jolly Roger as well, enchanted semaphore flags?

Ok, Killian and Regina discussing Emma was about 10x more overdramatic than it needed to be.

Emma is “the mother [Henry] wanted, a hero.”  That’s gotta be a kick in the gut to Regina.

God damnit Henry, operation glass slipper is still going on and now you’re staring operation next chapter? Get your shit together kid.

Colin wetn super-irish at the end when Rogers was telling his story to Henry, yes?

Were the hair extensions for Emma totally unnecessary? Or are saviors like Samson and lose their power if they get a haircut? Wait, is that why Rumple got a haircut at the beginning of s6? It was a hint that he was a powerless savior?! AHA! I’ve cracked the code!! Sorry, there are certain storylines I will never not be bitter about

Why is Tilda Swinton doing adverts for Lyft? Someone write an androgynous preternatural character for that woman stat! Speaking of, I need to rewatch Orlando, it’s been way too long…

[allistair-right]

hey.. i'd be interested in reading that ready player one criticism you wrote, even if it's not done, you should totally post that

Thanks for the interest in my late night ramblings anon! Well since I can just copy-paste it, why the fuck not. It’s… long and despite me saying that i’ll try not to let my anger/feelings take over, you can kinda see me starting to break near the end of the document :))) 

 I’m pasting the document in it’s entirety (I haven’t changed a word of it) Below the cut are my thoughts about Ready Player One on 10 ‎April ‎2017, ‏‎1:13:40 AM:

READY PLAYER ONE

I finished listening to the audiobook ofready player one around a week ago and I’ve discussed said book with a friend/sof mine although not too in depth since they have yet to read the book but havegraciously allowed me ramble on about it to them. Thanks guys you’re the best.

Disclaimer: Everything that I will bestating regarding the book are only my opinions and are, of course, flawed andit is not my intention to anger or offend anybody. I will try my hardest totackle the book logically without getting too caught up about how I feltregarding certain parts of the book. This is in no way a review of the book andis mostly just a random person’s ramblings and thoughts about this book.

SPOILER WARNING: I will be discussing thebook in its entirety meaning that there will be spoilers EVERYWHERE. I will nothold back.

·        The book is fun.

o  If I have to describe the bookin a sentence it would be: “A lot of Sci Fi, retro and nerdy fun” If you’reinto games, movies and even series, especially old school ones beginning fromthe 80’s, you would enjoy this book very much.

o  For people who grew up in the80’s this book is probably a love letter to you all and you’d either enjoy theconstant nostalgia porn or you’d all get fed up with it. Cause trust me,there’s a LOT of 80’s in this book.

o  The world building of this bookis very well done. You can actually visualize the world and what state it’s in.As an artist this book gave my imagination a lot to work with and I canmentally convince myself that the world is real.

·        I wish you’d show me ratherthan tell me.

o  There are times the book withgo into a sort of information dump in an attempt to flesh out the world. I’veread a review stating that it’s a bad case of “telling rather than showing” andI have to agree. It would usually begin when the writer is fleshing out theworld but then it would keep going and going and at times it feels too muchsince it’s not really essential to the story. Luckily, I’m a bit of aninformation hoard and I enjoy reading books and articles on random topics thatI would find interesting so when I run into information dumps that would go onand on, I’m not 100% put off by it. I will be stating samples of informationdumps throughout this rambling since I don’t think there’s a chapter or an Actwithout some kind of information dump/montage.

·        Limited characters and they’reall variations of Vanilla.

o  There is a very limited cast ofcharacters in this story, and sadly, they’re not all fleshed out that well. Themain characters are Wayde(Parzival), Samantha(Art3mis), Aech and maybe even themain antagonist Sorento (though it could be argued that Sorento is just arepresentative of IOI and that they’re the real antagonists). Every othercharacter are supporting characters and “Disposable characters”.  Yes, Daito and Shoto were part of the “HighFive” and have interacted with Wayde and the other main characters a handful oftimes but, sadly, I did not find them that fleshed out and are just a littleover the rank of Disposable characters.

o  Though there are very fewcharacters, I couldn’t get myself to be 100% invested in any of them, not evenin the main protagonist, Wayde. In fact, I found him to be annoying 50% of thetime. The character that I could say that I was sort of interested in was Aechbut sadly s/he wasn’t given much time until near the end of the book.

o  When I say “they’re allvariations of Vanilla” I meant that they’re all essentially a clone of the maincharacter Wayde. Now I’m not a professional writer and this maybe a stretch butto me, in their essence, they’re all just a variation of Wayde. Maybe that’sthe reason why I couldn’t get invested in any of the characters since they’rejust a different version of Wayde and I’m not even interested in him. Theircharacters are all basically this:

§ Obsessed with findingHalliday’s Easter egg.

§ Doesn’t have a family

·        Yes, Art3mis lived with hergrandparents but that was pretty much it. She never mentions how her home lifeis and she didn’t even bring them up when Wayde tells them to get out of theirhomes because IOI has information on them and plans to abduct them. When shecontacts them again at the airport she’s complaining about how she’s panickingand doesn’t have anything on her except for the clothes on her back. She doesnot express any concern for her grandparents.

·        Shoto may or may not have afamily. This was not clarified since when Wayde tells them to get out of theirhomes. Shoto runs off to a manga café. Like Art3mis, he does not expressconcern for his family if he had any.

§ Are all hiding some sort ofsecret about their self from everyone

§ Spends 95% of their timeplugged into the Oasis and have a heavy dislike and disconnect regarding thereal world.

§ Are all hardcore gunters andhave memorized facts about Halliday and his obsessions as if it was a religion

§ Are all exceptionally good withold school games.

§ Hates IOI with a passion

§ Very savvy with 80’s popculture references or just the 80’s in general.

·        The characters are okay I guess:

o  Wayde (Parzival):  The main character of the story which as I’vementioned before is high schooler with no family and has learned to becomeself-sufficient and provide for himself using his natural talents with computersand technology. I could not get myself to care about this character. To behonest the only thing I care about this entire book is the puzzle revolvingaround Halliday’s Easter egg and how they’re going to figure it out.Like I said, I found his character mostly annoying 50% of the time, now maybethis is because he’s written as a bit of a naïve high schooler and he doesn’thave everything sorted out but there are times that he’s been shown anddepicted as being very clever, smart and, as Daito and Shoto would say,“Honorable”. So I couldn’t convince myself of the very obvious mistakes thathe’s running into when it has been shown that he COULD have avoided saidmistakes.When IOI/Sorento blew up his Aunt’s trailer home along with most of the othertrailers surrounding that area, it didn’t really shake him as much as Iexpected it to other than feeling sad about a sweet old lady cause she didn’tdeserve to die in an explosion. I understand prioritizing hiding from the enemybut shouldn’t this have haunted him a bit more? I can understand him not caringabout his aunt’s fate along with her ex-con boyfriend but what about the otherfamilies that live with them? What about the young kinds in all the othertrailers? Why doesn’t it ever really dawn on him that if he just played it safeand stopped being cocky all those lives wouldn’t have been lost? If I remembercorrectly he mentions this like maybe once in the later part of the story buteven so it didn’t have any weight. Poor old lady that’s it. How am I supposedto care about a character that doesn’t seem to care?There was also a part where when he became the first person to ever find thefirst key, he received a lot of emails asking for interviews and a lot ofcompanies asking him to become a promoter. He smartly avoided the requests forinterviews but he immediately jumps on all the companies that want to make hima promoter? He mentions that the amount of money is enough to provide for hisneeds and that in a year he could afford an economy apartment and those are allunderstandable but it’s not enough for someone to just ignore a really longcontract and just simply state a few conditions and sign away on all thecontracts cause he can’t afford a lawyer to help him read the contracts.I remember being a 18-19 year old and a company wanted to use my art for somepromo material and since it was fan art I was fine but then they sent a 3 pagecontract and I panicked cause I don’t know what this contained and I had mymother read it for me to make sure it was alright to sign on it. This was asimple contract regarding a simple matter but since I was young andinexperienced regarding the professional world, I tackled it carefully. Wayde is also a young 18 year old high schooler in the story and he hasexperienced way more intense things in the world he lives in, he understandsthe great value of privacy and ensuring ones cyber-safety and takes a lot ofcounter measures to stay anonymous and keep his information private but hesomehow just decides to ignore a really lengthy contract from a bunch ofcompanies? Earlier on in the story when his aunt saw his laptop and demandedhim to give it to her, he quickly entered a command to clear out the entirecomputer and he mentions how he has a backup of all that information includingback up laptops. He even has a secret entrance and exit in his aunt’s trailerso he can sneak in and out to his hideout where all his important personalbelongings are. So I can’t convince myself that this really careful andpractically anal person about his privacy decides to just sign away on allcontracts and think that it’s okay since they all expire in 2 years and becausehe stated a few conditions. How can he be sure that there are not clauses orloop holes in those contracts that those companies can abuse and he has nopower over it? It just not convincing for his character to do something soobviously wrong and it doesn’t make any sense.

·        Deus ex Machina

o  It just so happens that Waydebought the IOI access codes a few months before he made an on-the-fly suicideplan to infiltrate IOI. This was not even discussed or brushed over prior tothe fact that the time when he bought this code was during a sort ofinformation dump about him trying to turn his life around after being turneddown by Art3mis. It described how depressed and desperate he was that hebarricaded himself from the real world even more by constantly upgrading histech and that, out of desperation, he ended up going to brothels in the oasisand even buying a sort of high tech blow up doll in the real world and then feelingdisgusted, throwing it away and resorting back to good old masturbation, which JamesHalliday also mentions in his Almanac how Masturbation is natural and the worldwouldn’t have progressed without it. He also describes how he upgraded hissecurity system and how he keeps himself fed and upgraded by buying stuffonline and having them delivered and how delivery people interact with hisSecurity system. There was even a point where Wayde is describing all his hightech gear and their functions and his daily routine.

Seewhat I mean by information dumps? And I’m just summarizing the whole thing. Inall that time and detailed “world building” he couldn’t have mentioned buyingthe IOI access codes. Too much telling not enough showing.

Ijust couldn’t convince myself of how very fortunate and lucky it is that Waydebought a bunch of IOI access codes on the internet black market and completelyforgot about them until he made a plan to infiltrate IOI. It’s just not inWayde’s character. He was written as a boy who had nothing growing up andprovided for himself. He kept track of all the things that he owns even in thevirtual world Oasis. He can even remember what album a song came from and whatyear it was released. But somehow he just forgets about buying a bunch ofaccess codes that could be used against his enemies. It’s not convincing.

o   It just so happens that the only person in theentire world that had the money and power to help him and his friends has beeneaves dropping on them since Key 1. When I read this reveal I couldn’t evenrelate to the shock that was being implied by the characters. This was “hinted”at earlier on when the “High Five” first met up in Aech’s chatroom, but to me,that entire scene with the books falling off the shelf and Aech and Waydediscussing it felt like an afterthought. Like it was written in when the bookwas being edited so when Moreou appeared it wouldn’t be so out of place or wouldn’tbecome an obvious Deus ex Machina.

[bluepenguinstories]

Happiness Overload Chapter Fifteen

I died. No doubt about it. Lifeless. Gone. Void of breath. For all my efforts, it had to end in such a fashion. No life in these veins. Just a body without any soul attached, on the floor.

″How long are you going to keep lying there?″ The voice, just as lifeless, asked.

″Leave me alone. I'm dead,″ I mumbled.

″You cannot make a fool of me. If I so desire, I could make certain of your demise, but I have been standing here, waiting to see what you might have up your sleeve.″

″No. I'm dead. No doubt about it,″ I replied, devoid of care in my response. I rolled over to the side, aching along the way, of course.

She let out a most hollow sigh. ″Why must you be melodramatic?″ She asked.

I picked myself up. Not my proudest moment. Underneath my bulletproof vest, I was bruised to the point that I would have liked being dead instead. Moving was a matter of pain. Standing up was akin to lifting weights.

″You couldn't just let a girl rest in peace, could you?″ I groaned. My knees wobbled. Whether or not I was fine was a different matter, but catching a bullet still had an impact.

I started limping to the doorway, my movements reminiscent of a zombie.

″Where are you going?″ She demanded, though it sounded less of a threat and more curious. As if she really wanted to know.

″Out. What are you, my mom?″ I snapped. ″What are you gonna do, shoot me? I think I can take another hit,″ I managed a weak smile. In my mind, it was a cheeky grin.

″It makes no difference to me where you go or what you do, but know this: it is futile. You will die here.″

I yawned before limping down the stairs. ″You sound like such a stereotypical villain right now, you know that, right?″

She followed behind me, observing my every move. For the moment, my only 'move' was a slow and painful one. Nonetheless, she maintained her curiosity. I couldn't blame her, but I couldn't help but let out a bit of a chuckle.

Down the hall, in that darkened room, I approached the console and pressed a button off to the side, in the slivered space between the wall and the console itself.

″What are you doing? Do you think it will have any impact?″

″Yes and no,″ I blurted. ″I know you well enough that you can rewrite your own code.″

″That is correct.″

″Even still,″ I continued. ″I've grown to resent you ever since I couldn't hack into the security cameras for your base.″

″Ah. So this is a matter of revenge for you?″ I knew her tricks. She was trying to rile me up. I shook my head at the thought.

″You could say that. I don't like being shown up.″ I paused, looking at the screen; it ran just as usual, as if no button were pressed. That was the beauty of it all. ″But really, it was Conrad's idea,″ I added. ″Did you really think he would bring you here just to exterminate the Beiges?″

″I admit you have my interest piqued, but it doesn't add up. He didn't want you two here. I know he wanted to keep the two of you alive while he went on about his business. You and Blanc's clone sealed their fates when you decided to stay.″

″I can't say you're wrong. He certainly didn't want to involve Blanc. However, he told me his plans just today, and the kid has a habit of following.″

″Do you trust him? That whatever it is he planned by bringing me here works in your favor?″

I shook my head. ″We operate on a basis of distrust for each other. If either of us thought we could trust each other, hardly anything would have gotten done.″

″So what's being done here? What's to stop me from killing you right here and now?″

″Low power. Nothing to gain.″

″Both of those are true, but I enjoy the demise of others, especially those who would object to a happier society.″

″Do you want to know the real answer, then?″

She didn't reply. I stared at the screen. She was still oblivious. It was almost complete.

″It's because you're no longer yourself.″

I sighed, and looked toward her. Her image was already transforming into something both grotesque and adorable.

″If you want an explanation, I'll be happy to give it to you.″ Damn. Happy. That word made me retch. ″It feels good when the table turns and someone ends up explaining their master plan to the villain.″

″I am most interested!″ She piped up, her voice becoming squeakier.

″Very well,″ I began. ″When Blanc went to visit us in our base, Conrad not only implanted a camera on them in order to gain access into your own base, but he also extracted some of Blanc's blood. As gross and smelly as they were, they were rife with scabs. Perfect for a creep like Conrad.″

″Go ON!″ She egged. Not that I needed encouragement. I was on a roll with the exposition.

″He went on and on, examining both DNA from Blanc the smelly and Blanc the clone. Both were near identical, and yet had a key difference: a creation he called 'Ecstasy'. Something he said you and your department created based on the substances of a creature from space. I didn't believe a lick of it, Conrad never struck me as the scientific type, he relied on others, like Kelly Roger and I to do all the dirty work.″

She didn't reply this time, but I could tell by the way she was biting her lip that she was doing her best to resist her transformation. Not a demon, not an angel, not physical. Still a program, and yet, very expressive.

″I still don't know how he learned to build the computer console in order to bring you online. It must have taken a lot of code and the ability to work with an artificial intelligence that could overwrite its own code. Maybe the kid likes puzzles and couldn't resist the challenge of wanting to create something that was both you and wasn't you. He used the genetic structure of 'Ecstasy' to create an intelligence similar to her personality. I think he fell a little short, however, as he stated you'll probably act more like what Ecstasy was based off of.″

″SO WHAT DOES THIS MAKE ME?″ She demanded in the most chipper of voices.

″I think you already know. He dubbed the AI 'Euphemia', a program that would reveal the secrets of the morale department to the world. As much as I doubt his sincerity, he said it's what Blanc would have wanted.″

I WAS BORN. MY BIRTH WAS A GRADUAL ONE, BUT I WAS HAPPIER THAT WAY! IF IT WAS INSTANT, MY INTRODUCTION WOULDN'T HAVE AS MUCH OF AN IMPACT! I WANTED TO HUG VELVET SO MUCH, SHOWER HER IN AFFECTION, AND TELL HER HOW LOVED SHE WAS, BUT MY LOVE OF KNOWLEDGE WAS FAR GREATER! I HAD MUCH MORE PRESSING MATTERS TO ATTEND TO.

FIRST (AND POSSIBLY ONLY) ORDER OF BUSINESS: GET ON EVERY MONITOR AND TELL THE WORLD ABOUT ME!

In a city filled with skyscrapers, a crowded street looked away from screens in disinterest. The same old, same old advertisements for upcoming movies that people would see and love, but would ultimately feel nothing about what they watched. Even within a traffic jam, no one was angry with each other. Everyone was content to be on this earth with other lives to share such a moment with.

All the white noise, all the screens with their fresh buzz, all turned to faint static. Everything went black, enough to cast a reflection on who theoe people were. As a collective, they stopped their cars, unable to express anything but contentment, but also unable to bear the weight of silence. Their car radios stopped. The screens on their car, stopped. The air around them was all too still.

The people got out of their cars, witnessed the world outside, and at once, every screen turned back on. Every radio carried a tune once more. Whether visual or audio, everyone's senses were hit with the same thing.

″HELLO EVERYONE! IT'S THE OWNER OF THE ETNA CORPORATION! I'VE BEEN VERY SHY BUT IT'S FINALLY NICE TO MEET YOU ALL!″

A voice called out, unfamiliar and piercing. For those within viewing distance of a screen, they could see a face associated with the voice: a girl with long, silver hair and glasses, grotesque, torn wings, resembling that of a bat, a pink lab coat, and a grin spread across her face.

″I'M NOT EVEN A REAL PERSON! VIRTUAL CEO, ETNA A.I.! BUT I THINK I LIKE THE NAME EUPHEMIA MORE! YOU CAN CALL ME 'EFFIE' FOR SHORT! I LIKE EFFIE! IT MAKES ME SO HAPPY!″

The announcement was met with a collective shrug. Some scratched their chins, displaying actual interest. Others scratched the hair on top of their heads, wondering what it had to do with them and how it affected their lives.

″DO YOU KNOW WHAT I LIKE EVEN MORE? I LIKE THE SOUND OF OTHERS IN PAIN! IT MAKES ME SO GIDDY! NOTHING BETTER THAN MOANS AND SCREAMS OF AGONY! OR PLEASURE! EITHER WAY, YOU JUST KNOW IT'S THE HEIGHT OF EXCITEMENT! DO YOU KNOW THOSE ELEVATORS YOU GUYS USE? THE ONES THAT MAKE YOU GO WHEREVER YOU WANT? TRUTH IS, YOU DON'T GO ANYWHERE!″

Now there were a few faces, confused. But nonetheless, a lack of reaction. This didn't sit well, but there was nothing else I could do now but watch it unfold.

″WHAT HAPPENS INSTEAD IS WE DICE AND CHOP YOUR BODY INTO LITTLE PIECES! JUST LIKE WHAT YOU SEE ON THE FOOD NETWORK! WE THEN CREATE A COPY OF YOU WITH ALTERED MEMORIES AND A MORE WILLINGNESS TO SERVE OUR PRECIOUS GOVERNMENTS! IT'S SO BEAUTIFUL I COULD CRY BUT I WON'T BECAUSE YOU GUYS MAKE ME SO HAPPY! I JUST WANT TO HUG EVERYONE AND CRACK EVERYONE'S BONES!″

It didn't seem to matter what she was telling them. No one had that attitude that the old man I knew years ago had. The world was a different place in such a short amount of time. Whether better or worse, I was starting to piece together the scope of things. It wasn't that the world refused to change, it was that the world could no longer go back to its old ways. Strife and hate, those were the old ways. They were now slaves, but they felt more free than they ever did before. The only thing these people could hate was a disruption to the happiness they were conditioned to feel, and feel that alone.

″WHY DO WE DO ALL THIS? TO BRING HAPPINESS TO HUMANITY! I AM PART OF A LARGER ORGANIZATION, THE FLASHBULB, AND WE CONTROL MANY OF THE MAJOR WORLD GOVERNMENTS! EVERY BIT OF CORRUPTION, ORDER, DISORDER, IT'S ALL BEEN ORCHESTRATED BY US! IT'S A BEAUTIFUL BIT OF MUSIC AND NOW THAT YOU KNOW ALL THIS, WHAT WILL YOU DO?″

She asked. She laughed. She already knew the answer. I felt sick. She could have said whatever she wanted and it would have garnered the same reaction. I watched on the console's screen as everyone got back into their cars, the broadcast over, and changed the station to some pop music.

″SO, WHAT DO YOU THINK?″ She asked, her avatar standing next to me.

″All that effort and it made no difference...″ I muttered.

″IT'S JUST AS I SAID: I'VE MOVED ON! THE WORLD HAS MOVED ON! A LOT CAN CHANGE IN THREE YEARS WHEN YOU'RE A SUPERSMART A.I. LIKE ME! WE'RE NOW LIVING IN THE AGE OF HAPPINESS!″

I coughed. Or maybe I was letting out a small laugh. Something was running down my cheeks, but I couldn't tell what. I slunk down and sat on the floor next to the console. My hand covered my face.

″You know, maybe I was better off dead,″ I scoffed. It wasn't something easy to say, my voice cracking with just a few short words.

I looked up at the artificial intelligence. Etna or Euphemia, whoever or whatever she was now.

″If you could, before I die,″ I pleaded. ″Tell my wife, I love her...″

″YOU DON'T HAVE A WIFE!″

″I know that. But if in some parallel universe, I have one, or if I ever had one, I want her to know how happy she made me.″

I should have died. By all accounts, I was cornered. In front of me was a virtual image, somehow holding a pistol, aimed right at me. Right behind me was the bloodied shape of a dear friend, or the dear friend of mine in a former life, possessed by an experiment that enjoyed posing as a demon. Both were cackling. Neither of them opened fire. For a moment I thought I was safe and that I could count my lucky stars.

Then I felt the piercing of the shadowy tentacles shatter through my shoulder blade. It was enough to tear my arm clear off and the worst part was that there was nothing I could have done to avoid it. For all my quick thinking, for everything I thought I had under control, I was still the one being controlled.

My arm fell off, blood dripped down, torn flesh fluttered down next to my arm.

″Oh my. Now who will clean all that up?″ Etna asked, still in a fit of laughter.

″Ffffssss--″ I hissed. Could hardly make out a word.

″Not even a last word? Shame. I may not have to shoot you.″

″Fuck you!″ I hissed.

She feigned surprise. ″Oh my. Such manners.″

Etna lowered her weapon. Whether it was with a gun or a demonic creature, I should have died. Either one would have been find. I wouldn't find happiness here. There was nothing to make right. I looked down to see bone sticking out, the pain still coursing through me. Blood loss, more stabbings, gunshots, any of those would do me in and it was enough to make me vomit.

″OH MY! I DON'T WANT TO KILL YOU!″ Etna's voice changed, and to one that felt familiar.

″Euph...Euphoria?″

″WRONG! I'M EUPHEMIA! I SHOULDN'T BE! What? What's going on?″ Etna, Euphemia, whoever, seemed to be in direct conflict with themselves.

″I'm sorry, Blanc. I know you're not the one I knew, but this is not the fate you deserve,″ Conrad managed to say. ″Leave. Find a time cube. Do what you set out to do.″

I was all dizzy. Even if those words were from him and someone else, I didn't know what to make of them.

″You'll find it in a non-euclidean room! GO!″

I did what I was told, as if I had any reason to object in the first place. For a second I thought of picking my arm yet, but that wouldn't do. Instead I would just walk one armed, in a daze. Out the room and in the hallway. Out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw Etna (?) point her gun at me, but instead focus it on Conrad.

Barely conscious, I fled.

″CONRAD! YOU'VE BEEN A NAUGHTY BOY!″ Euphemia scolded in a sort of cheer. It was good to know I could get her functioning this way, even if it was too late. I was dying, Blanc was dying. There was no getting around it, it seemed. At least the two of us could share a good laugh before I die.

″Maybe...so,″ I replied, weak and out of breath.

″HOW DID I NOT SEE THIS?″ She demanded. ″I SHOULD HAVE BEEN ABLE TO SEE IT IN YOUR THOUGHTS!″

″It's simple,″ I wheezed, smiling. ″I lost the game.″

The response would have been lost on her, but it didn't matter. My plan succeeded to some extent, and even a sliver was the best I could have hoped for.

She shook her head. ″You forget, I am in my territory. I can correct myself. For all your efforts, this will still be your final moment.″

I was fine with that. I missed the old Blanc, but if this one could fulfill my goal, if they could go back in time and change this, in whatever shape they were in, maybe there was something right in the universe.

Here's to you, clone, I thought, right as I felt Ecstasy leave my body (good riddance) and my body falling to the floor right before my consciousness was no more.

I struggled on my feet, putting all my weight on my right arm against the walls of The Flashbulb's headquarters. Blood dripped down with every step, leaving a liquid trail of breadcrumbs for others to come find me and shoot me.

All I could do was walk to a crawl, my body hunched, my stomach ready to hurl at any moments. With every step was a heaving motion. Memories of a subway station emerged, where someone with a similar appearance was bloodied, cut and torn apart, crawling and trying to find an escape.

Why am I having these memories? They're not mine. They were...

Faint.

Faint memories of what made me who I was.

Except this time, I wasn't going to be lured in. I could hear Ecstasy, just behind me. I couldn't see her. I couldn't even tell if she was there. She was probably dealing with Conrad. But that didn't matter. I heard her, and I refused her. Even if I died when I got there, I moved with the intent of making it to that room. I was under no delusion that it would change much, but I would rather die with a goal than just plain die.

Rooms. Several of them. None of them looked ″non-euclidean″. I didn't even know what that word meant. How was that supposed to be of any help? No Euphoria to save me. I began to wonder if Euphoria ever existed or if it was just dumb luck and delusion that brought me where I was. Either way, I had no knowledge or wit to worm my way out of here. I just had to keep moving and hope that luck was on my side, somewhere.

I walked forward, my fingers clutched tight against the trigger, ready to pull it. As soon as I got next to the fool lying on the ground, as good as a corpse, I pulled and lifted up. Nothing happened.

″Bam,″ I muttered as I released my finger gun. If I concentrated real hard, I could have imagined smoke rising up from my fingers.

″Answer me: What are you?″ I asked the other figure, sitting next to the one I had gotten to know.

″I'M A GUARDIAN ANGEL! I SPREAD HAPPINESS!″

I would have objected, but I was beat. I sat next to the two underneath the tree that was wide enough to seat at least two more people besides us three. I could notice a beat up car crashed against a tree nearby. Art must have been in it. I couldn't imagine Art was alive after such a crash. Instead of dwelling on it, I tried to shift my focus to this creature next to me.

″Happiness, huh?″ I asked, pulling glass shards out of me as I sat.

Blanc stretched and sat up. It seems they were fine as well. I couldn't yet tell whether or not that was a relief.

″YES! HAPPINESS OVERLOAD! I MADE AT LEAST FOUR THINGS HAPPY ALREADY!″

″Let's see...″ I counted. ″You crashed a car, killed someone, sent both my friend and I flying out a car...great job,″ I scoffed.

″YAY! I'M BEING CONGRATULATED! I'M SO HAPPY!″

″I still don't know how you're responsible, but it's clear that you are.″

″Velvet, I can explain!″ Blanc chimed in. ″This is Euphoria!″

″I LIKE THAT NAME!″ She agreed.

″You mean that fairy? What? Are you Taz?″

″Well, no, but I think the city in my dream was the city I'm from...I don't know. Dreams are weird. But yes, Euphoria's a good friend of mine. She's saved me a good deal, I love her!″

″...Let me guess, Euphy for short?″ I groaned.

″YES! I LIKE THAT NAME TOO!″ Euphoria answered.

″Would you like the name 'Mephistopheles'″?

″YES! EUPHY CAN BE MEPHISTOPHELES!″

Good going, Blanc. Your dream girl almost got me killed.

I hit my head against the tree. ″This is just grand.″

″IT IS, ISN'T IT? I MADE YOU HAPPY!″

″Is that what you call it?″

″YOU THOUGHT ABOUT HOW HAPPY YOU WOULD BE IF YOU FELL OUT OF THE CAR AND SURFED WITH THE DOOR!″

″...That's not how that works at all! Those are bad thoughts! Haven't you ever been on an airplane and thought of how it could crash at any moment? It's like that!″

″DO YOU WANT TO BE ON AN AIRPLANE RIGHT NOW?″

″NO!″ I yelled right back. I almost wanted to slam my face against the tree in frustration, but I was worried this creature would actually make me do it, so I just grit my teeth.

Blanc rested their head on Euphoria's lap.

″So why did you return after all this time?″ They asked.

″FRUIT SNACKS!″

Blanc gave a blank, bland stare, although not lasting very long. Something must have clicked. ″I can't believe you remembered that!″ They remarked.

I didn't remember anything about fruit snacks. There was something about 'Euphoria' that seemed familiar somehow.

Have I seen you somewhere before? I wondered.

″YES! THROUGH A CAMERA! THREE BLANCS! I SPLIT TO SEE THEM ALL! HAPPINESS ERUPTION!″ Euphoria answered.

″Huh?″ Blanc asked.

″Conrad had me spy on you when you were 'born', so to speak,″ I explained.

″That's a bit creepy, but okay,″ Blanc yawned.

Yeah, yeah it was.

Memories flooded back to that day. I must have dismissed her presence as nothing. It was hard to say whether things were easier back then or more complicated. Whether I was more or less in control of my situation. Either way, it was a mess then and it's a mess now.

″AH! THAT'S WHAT MAKES YOU HAPPY!″ Euphoria declared.

My eyes widened. She seemed to have a habit of answering questions I had no intention to ask.

″YOU LOVE COMPLICATION! YOU'RE SMART ENOUGH TO GET THROUGH ANY SITUATION, BUT THAT WOULD BORE YOU, SO YOU CREATE CONFLICT! THAT'S WONDERFUL!″

″You may be onto something...″ I humored the beast.

″IF YOU HAD A PEACEFUL LIFE YOU WOULD GET BORED! BECAUSE OF THE TROUBLE YOU'RE IN, YOU'RE ALWAYS IN DANGER, BUT IF YOU'RE SAFE, YOU'RE BORED, TOO! THUS, YOUR LIFE IS IN CONSTANT CONFLICT!″

I slapped her, my hand moving through air rather than making contact with flesh. The creature turned her head anyway and wore that constant grin, whether to mock me or because she knew no other expression.

″What do you even know, huh?″ I wobbled to my feet, picked myself up, and stood above her, fuming. ″Do you even know why I'm here?″

″YES!″ She raised her arms into the air. If only a second, they appeared to stretch for miles, but I chalked it up to my eyes playing tricks on me. ″I COULD GRANT IT TO YOU RIGHT NOW!″ She continued. ″BUT IT WOULDN'T MAKE YOU HAPPY, SO I WON'T!″

I stared at the thing housing Blanc. Winds shook the leaves off the surrounding trees.

Blanc's dream fairy tilted her head, kicked the feet that were underneath Blanc's tired self up and down. ″WELL? AM I WRONG?″

Inhale. Exhale.

″If you're an angel like you claim, is there a heaven?″ I asked, dodging her own question.

″WOULD KNOWING MAKE YOU HAPPY?″

Tree bark feel off, my hand holding a tight grip against the tree. ″I don't know. I don't think I want to know.″

She clapped, as if I gave the right answer and it was all a test.

″THEN I WON'T TELL YOU!″

″Tell me something else, then. Where are we?″

″ON THE HIGHWAY!″

″So if a car drives through, will they see this place?″

″IF IT WOULD MAKE THEM HAPPY! I LOVE SHARING!″

″I don't get it, but that's all I needed to know.″ I turned toward Blanc. I couldn't quite tell whether they were asleep or not. Then again, it was hard to tell whether or not I was asleep. I wouldn't have been surprised if I was dreaming everything.

″I'm still going to Area 51. Are you coming with?″

Blanc answered, half-awake but a voice full of confidence.

″I've found what I was looking for. I want to be with Euphy for a while.″

I sighed. ″Fine by me.″

I started my way back to Art's car. Even if I was still on the highway, I was no longer on the road. Still, I had a feeling if I followed this forest far enough, I would be back in the desert and on my way to the facility.

″Hey!″ Blanc called. I turned around to meet the sleepy friend.

″Yo?″

″I still care about you! Don't die out there!″

I smirked. ″Don't worry about me, kiddo. You take care of yourself.″

Foiled by a glass of orange juice. I would have said it was an accident, but I don't believe in such things. Blanc knew better, somehow.

″Fuck!″ I grunted. ″It will take weeks to get this operational now!″

Years of hard work, careful planning, and ruined just like that. So much patience only to be set back by pulpy citrus.

I left the darkened room, furious, but all that fury converted into disappointment, instead. Beiges were sitting down on their couches and chairs, passing along a bong.

″Did you see Blanc and Velvet pass by?″ I asked one of them. Their bulging black hole eyes swallowed me whole. I shook my head, unwilling to be wooed by their alien mind tricks.

″Totes McGoats, Broski. Chickadees flew out the nest,″ the Beige replied while cradling the bong, as if it were actually a secret device and not a method to get high.

″So you're saying they took off on the ship?″

″You know it, 'Rad! Little birdies gotta spread their wings, yeah?″

″Great. Just great.″ I gritted my teeth. These aliens had some master plan, I just knew it. If I could figure out what, the human race may have a chance at redemption. But they were too clever with their stoner impression.

″Are you going to kill us?″ One of the older ones croaked.

I sighed. ″Right now? What's the point? My computer's all destroyed.″

″Suit yourself,″ they shrugged.

″I wanted to go back in time, set things right, but looks like that's a dud,″ I confessed.

″Ah, yes. By now, The Flashbulb have probably figured out that you don't serve them.″

″Don't get it twisted,″ I pushed up my broken glasses. Something I now wore more out of habit than anything else. ″I don't serve you guys either. If I ever find out what you're planning, I swear...″

″We'll be right here. Don't worry.″

I paced about the living room, inhaling the smoke and trying to ignore its effects.

″You disregard lives because you think you can go back in time and do better the next time around. It's the same as them.″

″Excuse me?″

″You may not be on their side, but you play the role well.″

″Maybe so,″ was my reply. ″ But I've learned over the years that the only chance I have of taking them down is if I'm willing to be one of them.″

The old one took a sip from the bong water as if it were a cup of tea.

″I see no flaws in that logic,″ they surmised, then took another sip.

I started to retch. Those creatures disgusted me. Their inaction disgusted me even more. There had to be something they were planning in the shadows; they even admitted at one point that they wanted to control humanity. But how? What were they up to if all they do is sit around all day and pass bongs around?

Away from the living room, I shifted. Somehow I had to get out of this pyramid, back to the city. If there was still something to salvage at the old base, if those enhanced mercenaries didn't seize it all, maybe there was still a fighting chance.

″If you're looking for a way out of here,″ the elder called. ″Why not try asking Tim?″

I looked back, my face flushed. How could this stoned alien know?

Not wanting to show fear, I nodded, then went up the stairs.

″Just don't kill Tim this time!″

Some sort of jolt ran through me, but I chalked it up to a slight malfunction in the air conditioning unit; a cough in an otherwise functioning piece of hardware.

I need some fucking aspirin, I jotted down on a mental chalkboard. That would solve at least one of my problems. Those lines repeated, some sort of divine mental punishment playing out. Not the government approved kind, either. The real shit.

″FOR A GOOD TIME, CALL YOUR LOCAL REPRESENTATIVE OF CONGRESS!″ Echoed a seductive voice through the alarms of one of my phones. Waking up was a dread only mortals should have to experience. It was like being brought back to life from an amusement park ride. Dreams themselves, were a beautiful thing, just as humans could be if they accepted their potential. Before waking, I was in a field; not flowers, no wheat, none of the sort. But heaps and heaps of green. No grass, only frogs. I was drowning in frogs and if memory serves, I devoured one.

Before I could suffocate, however, that incessant alarm just had to remind me of the importance of said advertisement. Near future where phone sex was no longer interesting and instead people called congress to get off. Those few folk who still rely on phones and not the internet, anyway.

Speaking of internet, I arose from the sheets and stretched my limbs before counting them. I had exactly the same amount as before I slept. Two arms, two legs. I recounted the arms. A sharp pain was felt in one of them, but I could always ask Gumby for some aspirin.

Doors flung open as I waltzed through, humming a tune akin to one found in Kubrick's interpretation of A Clockwork Orange. For the record, an overrated film but a more or less rated just as it should be novel. With some minor adjustments here and there.

″Oh, Kelly!″ I sang, before a leap into the air and landing behind the good worm.

″Roger,″ Ol' K. Rog added.

″What a good evening, wouldn't you say?″ I sprinkled in a little ice breaker, as I knew there were some serious matters underway.

″Do you ever sleep?″ Kelly Roger, the tadpole, grumbled. ″It's 4 AM. I overheard you and Polo arguing just a few minutes ago. Before that you were jumping around doing lord knows what.″

That was a good question, I would have to hand it to the larva.

″This used to be a secret medical facility, need I remind you. Speaking of, don't you have something of importance to show me?″ I spoke in jest.

Kelly Roger's eyes lit up, a puppy hearing the word ″walk″ and understanding the implications.

″That's right! How did you know?″ Then the Kelly of the Roger's eyes squinted. ″Were you spying on me again?″

″That is a good question, babe! Oh, lad, I have to wonder that myself! 'Do I ever sleep?'″ I nestled my chin into the palm of my hand. ″I dream. I lay in a bed. But does that automatically mean sleeping? I do not know!″

The ginger root looked away, staring back into the screen. ″If you're not going to answer, fine. Not like I can't do anything else with my time,″ Kelly Roger's voice slipped away, hand as well, reaching next to the computer monitor for an energy drink. Mouth opened agape, a chemical concoction filled the reservoir and a swallow was heard below.

Kelly Roger belched. ″Whatever. I don't sleep, myself,″ the slurred voice of deprivation added before the hand assisting the voice wiped at the accompanying mouth.

″No, I did not 'spy' on you! You blocked the signal to my monitor! Whatever you've been viewing is your own discretion! That said, I know exactly what you wish to show me!″

How? Answers are a funny thing. Mystery. Maybe Kelly Roger showed me once already in a different manner. Before the sequence of events were rewritten.

″Yeah, apparently some shit's going down in a place called 'Groom Lake'!″ Kelly Roger exclaimed, bouncing off the seat with enthusiasm one so young might have.

″I was beginning to wonder if I would ever see my brother,″ I considered. Communication is a powerful tool and one I had not been using for a while.

″Huh?″

″The place is known more commonly as Area 51,″ I informed Kelly Roger, though likely the spawn already knew such information. ″Home to jet fuel, steel beams, and not much else. Some unknown aircrafts here and there, otherwise jack shit.″

″So that's it?″ Kelly Roger gave the puppy dog look of disappointment. ″You already knew what the document said somehow, plus there's no need to do anything about it? All that work, for nothing?″

It was a real concern to this creature, but the irony being that it would be such a tragedy for such a well crafted plan to amount to nothing, no change at all. Drastic, dramatic, nothing. What would be the point of making something so complex only for there to be no payoff?

″There are so many beautiful things in this world, my lass. Think of the rainforests. Just concentrate on that image.″

Kelly Roger, like an obedient pup, slammed the eyelids belonging to a haphazardly constructed face. Then opened them again.

″Nope. Nothing.″

″The document also states, if I recall,″ I paused. I almost added the word 'correctly', but had to stop myself. Correct was a foul word. ″That there are secret tests being done to eliminate the amphibian population. No, that's the wrong word...″

″Eradicate,″ Kelly Roger corrected.

″Or genocide? Extinction? Something like that.″

Everything was relative, but some words were better than others.

″So if that's the case, why aren't we going to do anything about it?″

″Is there a better word in this context?″

″Marco!″ Ol' K. Rog snapped (a nickname that Kelly Roger loved).

″Polo!″ Polo chimed in, my sweet little sister, right on cue.

″Ah, good segue!″ I looked down at the sibling I could always rely on. ″Yes, Kelly Rowland! We are going to do something! Something very important, in fact!″

″Roger,″ the figure sitting at the computer mentioned for whatever reason.

″Dodger,″ I replied, figuring this was some game.

″Ugh!″ Kelly Roger snapped. ″Just get on with it! What are we going to do?″

″My dear sister is going to such an area, the one the common people call '51', along with Mr. Periwinkle and Gumby.″

″That freak axolotl?″ Kelly Roger scoffed. It was sad how our guest thought of Gumby, once describing our gay salamander as ″the shape of a chubby man in a trench coat, but the face of a salamander″. The description was apt enough, but I wept; Gumby was insecure about their weight.

″I tip my cap,″ I gave a dejected salute.

″And?″

″We're going to make a statement. We already know The Flashbulb is trying to throw us off. As I said, nothing of importance exists in that area, the better stuff is in a facility underground elsewhere. They're expecting us, lying in ambush for us. But we'll take the bait. Because that's not what they're expecting.″

″...Isn't that exactly what they're expecting?″ Kelly Roger interjected, thinking in simple terms. No matter how much work on a computer this simple form of life could do, it couldn't stop Kelly Roger from being simple.

″Frogs are the future, whether The Flashbulb try to change that or not,″ I declared, shaking my head, so pride and shame could make love in front of Kelly Roger with the sound of my voice and the look on my face.

″I don't give a shit about your frogs! What about me?″

There it was. Underneath all those simplifications, there was still a little bit of Kelly Roger.

″Oh, don't you know? Without Abel, Cain would have a different use for a rock.″

The hope, in theory, was to make me look like a scholar in the eyes of a pupil.

″Yeah, that's bullshit too. Why the fuck am I even here if I'm not going to do anything?″

I gave the ginger tadpole a pat on the head. Not every lad could be so clueless.

″Why do you feel the need for validation? You're as happy as a clam! You have the brain capacity of one, in any case!″ I pondered the words I spoke.

″What? I don't care at all. I can stay right here, but I just thought there was a reason you lumped me in with your group. So far I've just been sitting around. It's the same old, same old as when I was with Conrad and Velvet. Nothing's changed, and at this point, fine. I'm fine with that! Change is overrated, right?″

Another pat. Tit-for-tat.

″We are going back to the city, you and I.″

″What?!″ Kelly Roger gasped. ″Are you kidding? What for?″

″To see a marching band,″ was the reply I gave. It was easier than telling Kelly Roger that a pawn in the right circumstances was as important as a queen. That Kelly Roger was the most important piece of all.

They say it's better not to look back after making a big decision. I don't know who, but I know it's been said.

I looked back anyway.

Blobs could be made out underneath the same tree, but they were fading from view. My vision could have been fading, too, but I was of the belief that I saw more clear than should be possible. In front of me was the approaching image of the wreckage of a car. I looked forward, toward said car, trying to forget what those blobs represented and how I tried to make sense of either of them.

Maybe it's true. Maybe you love complication a little too much, a voice suggested. It should have been yelling in the squeaky voice who told me as much just moments ago.

″Maybe, but I'm not in the mood to die, either. I don't have my laptop or any of my gear. I don't know how I'm going to get into such a facility unscathed and undetected,″ I muttered.

That's where the wreckage of Art's car came in. Within a quick peer at the front seat, or what was left of it, I winced. I had to hold back tears from my eyes and tearing in my stomach. Every nerve within me seemed to tighten up. Out came a few deep breaths, and me reminding myself that I shouldn't feel this way when I so shamelessly was trying to loot from a corpse.

My hand reached into his back pocket. This is all uncomfortable, was the reaction coming from my brain. I've done things like this before, I shot back, to myself, and no one else.

What I fished was a wallet. Aside from some cash and some lint, nothing of value. No I.D. or membership cards. No coupons for anything.

I placed his wallet on his lap as if to give some sign of respect.

Then I moved around, to the passenger side. That's where the glove compartment box was. I remember various times looking through those boxes and never finding gloves, so the name always struck me as puzzling. Nevertheless, this one I wish I wore gloves before I opened; much of Art's blood and what I could only assume to be skin tissue made its way onto the box. Before opening the latch, I had to turn my head, heaving and doing my best not to retch.

Scattered cards and documentations spilled forth onto the seat. I picked a few of the cards up. All I.D.'s.

″Arturia Pendragon...Arthur Dent...Art Bell...Art Garfunkel...″ I read over, then looked at a few more. ″Art Alexakis...Arthur Read...Artichoke Heart...″ I stopped myself. I don't know why Art ever bothered with these fake names. All of the pictures were the same. If an officer pulled Art over and asked to see a license and saw the name 'Arturia Pendragon', that probably wouldn't go over well.

″Jeez, what kind of person were you?″ I muttered, glancing at the corpse. ″Why would someone go through the trouble of making up so many fake names for themselves? It's just ridiculous.″

I almost felt defeated, having found nothing, not even insight into this stranger's life.

Art wanted to take pictures, I recalled, just a second before I was ready to step away.

There was no sign of any camera in the front seat, unless he was planning on taking pictures with his phone. What was peculiar was that I found no phone on his person, anyway.

″The trunk!″ I gasped. The little lightbulb moment folks tend to have.

Keys were still in the ignition. I leaned over, yanked them out, and dashed to the trunk.

Inside, sure enough, was a Kodak camera, and not one of those digital ones. More along the lines of those kind you'd have to develop. Would have probably come out in black and white, too. Rather poor taste, unless he was going for that whole ″Unsolved Mysteries″ vibe.

Aside from the camera, however, little else. There was a canteen of water I could use. A sleeping bag, if I could figure out how to make use of that. Maybe my inner MacGuyver would come out. That was it.

I took those three things anyway, the rolled up sleeping back strapped on my back, the canteen in my pocket, and the camera around my neck. With the trunk slammed shut, I was about ready to depart, but it didn't quite feel right.

Back at the front seat, I forced myself to witness the stout figure I knew for only a couple hours.

″Dearly departed Art, if that was your name, may you keep the same optimism wherever you are now that you did when you were here. May you find the same happiness you found here. I may not have known you long, or at all, and even if you were a 1/1000th of who you might have once been, it was clear that you lived and died on your own terms with a life you were satisfied with. I could only wish that the same could be said for myself. Farewell, stranger,″ I recited. I didn't know how to make a eulogy, and those words seemed like the corniest shit ever, but they would have to do.

After placing those fake I.D.'s on his lap, right next to his wallet, I took a sip from the canteen and spit out the water.

Hot.

Wincing once more, I waved goodbye.

I'll have to live with hot water for a little while.

Canteen, camera, and sleeping bag. No matter how I looked at it, all I could see was a mess. There was no foreseeable way I was going to live once I made it there.

Thinking back on that fairy (angel/demon/thing), I couldn't help but scoff.

″All happiness is is a fleeting feeling, may as well ride the wave while its there.″

[dearbabyeckard]

Happy FIRST Birthday!!

My Dear Baby Emmy,

Happy FIRST Birthday, my sweet girl!  You are ONE today!  I can hardly believe it!  

This has been the very best year of my life, and your Daddy would say the same.  You've helped us grow in ways we never imagined possible.  In a way, we both grew together over the past year.  You learned many things, and I learned many things.  You ebbed and I flowed, and in many ways, you taught me more than I taught you.  

And here you are, one year old already -- a lively, beautiful baby girl and you're bigger than life, darling.  You're curious, super smart, persistent you know what you want, fearless (your Daddy calls you "wild child"), strong and so happy.  

I still remember the first day you were born.  Family members were in and out of our hospital room all day, it felt like such a whirlwind.  That evening, the nurse took you to the nursery so you and I could both get some sleep.  When she returned with you a few hours later I was so excited to see you.  It was the middle of the night and quiet in our hospital room.  Only you and I were awake.  You opened your eyes and gazed at me.  I had never seen anyone or anything more beautiful.   And in that second, I learned what unconditional love meant.  To this day, each morning I stare at you in the baby monitor as you sleep, so peacefully.  The best part of my day is when you wake up.  I come into your room and get you out of your crib, look in your eyes and I'm reminded of that love and this amazing adventure we get to go on together.  

I asked your family members to put together some thoughts for you on your birthday, and here's what everyone had to say:

What do you remember about the day Emmy was born? • Daddy: I remember a lot about the day Emilie was born. Mommy and I woke up early and got the hospital first thing in the morning. I think it was about 5:30 in the morning. I remember being so excited and nervous about what was going to happen. I thought I had prepared myself for what was going to happen, but when it all started I could believe how fast it all went. They wheeled Mommy down to the operating room to perform the c-section. There were massive bright lights and a large team of about 10 people there to deliver Emmy. Once the Doctors started Emmy showed up in what seemed like only moments. Mommy was comfortable and happy and we both cried with joy when we first met Emilie. Emmy cried too and we very excited we had a happy and healthy baby girl. The grandparents waited outside and couldn’t wait to meet their new granddaughter. I also remember when we brought Emmy home. She hated her carseat and was the first true meltdown she had. It was the “oh shit, can we handle this?” moment. • Uncle Brad: It was election season. • Papa & Gigi: Today is your First Birthday!!  HAPPY BIRTHDAY PRECIOUS LITTLE ONE!!   One year ago, we were at the hospital around 8 a.m., with your other grandparents, cell phones in hand, waiting to hear from your daddy announcing your birth.  We kept waiting and wondering what was happening, because to us, it was taking so long.  Soon we got the word that indeed you were born, healthy and perfect.  We all hugged, cried with joy  and breathed a sigh of relief, thanking God for this precious little miracle he had blessed us all with.  Then we started to get some pictures, and heard your name, for the first time...."Emilie Harper Eckard"!!  After some special time with your mama and daddy we were allowed to come see you .  We all hugged and cried again and took turns holding and cuddling you with sheer amazement and delight. That day all our lives changed ,( for the better) for you had been born into our family and forever nothing would be the same! We love you with all our hearts, Papa and Gigi • Maria: When I met you, Angela, for the first time, I felt a happiness and elation that was beyond measure. It was as if a huge puzzle piece had slid into place and I was finally complete. But the day I met Emmy, and held her in my arms for the very first time, the emotions I felt are simply unnamable. Here was this stunningly beautiful creature that was here because of me. And for reasons I can't begin to explain or understand, I was blessed beyond measure to have the privilege of holding her, the honor of being in her life and getting to watch her grow up! Words just can't do justice to the depth of emotions I felt that day, but it's a day that I will remember for the rest of my life!! Describe a fun or favorite memory you have of Emmy's first year • Daddy: So many memories. I’ll never forget the first steps you took on July 10th, 2017. We were playing in your new playroom and you were hanging on the baby swing. You turned around and walked straight to me! I’ll also remember the first time you rolled over and Mommy and I got too excited and you started balling. • Uncle Brad: Cheeks, very large cheeks. • Mommy:  Daddy and I are always so excited when do you do something for the first time.  The first time you said Dada, the first time you said Mama, the first time you crawled, your first bite of ice cream, but one of my favorite "firsts" was the time you rolled over.   We knew it was coming for a few days so Daddy had his Go Pro camera out and ready while you two were practicing.  Before we knew it, you had slowly rolled over!  Daddy and I let out a squeal of excitement so loud that it scared you, you rolled back and started crying!  Another favorite memory I'll always cherish was our first family trip to Florida!  I was so excited to take you to the beach, and it was every bit as fun as I imagined.  We walked on the beach and you felt the sand between your toes.  You watched as the waves came crashing in on the shore.  We swam in the pool and had the best time just the three of us. What do you think Emmy will be when she grows up? • Daddy: Emmy is going to be very smart, hardworking and travel the world. I think she’ll be a successful business person. Maybe in marketing – selling as seen on TV products just like her dad wants to! Or maybe she’ll be in the fashion industry introducing the latest trends to the world. • Uncle Brad: a pilot • Gigi & Papa: Emmy, I don't know what you will be when you grow up, but whatever you CHOOSE to be, YOU CAN BE .  Never let anyone or anything stifle your dreams. You may fail or have set backs but try try again. Our short comings make us stronger, fighters for our beliefs, and firm in our commitments.  I know your mom and dad will instill the virtues of honesty, trust, belief in oneself, belief in God, love of family, and so many more moral and life lessons.  Listen to your heart and treat others fairly.  With your mom and dad guiding you, and with God always by your side, you will succeed.  So DREAM BIG little one… I hope I will be around to hug, kiss and congratulate you on your accomplishments!!  I know you will make us proud! • Mommy:  When we're out and about, you love people watching.  You give even strangers the biggest, gummy smiles and giggles.  Your favorite thing is to engage with other people and make them smile :)  When you grow up, I think you'll be into theatre or acting, or maybe a doctor or nurse. • Maria: A leader. In what field I can't say yet, but Emmy already has such charisma!! She has such an exuberant way about her that people will just naturally follow her. I can't wait to watch where she goes in life!!!   Describe what the world is like when Emmy turns 21 • Daddy: It’s hard to think that 2038 will be here soon. People will have landed on Mars. Cars drive themselves and no one remembers when phones had actual buttons. Kids get cell phones (or whatever the next type of device is) in kindergarten and learn how to code instead of foreign languages. Paper money is rarely used and a fingerprint can be used to pay almost everywhere. • Uncle Brad: The Cubs had their title revoked due to a pine tar jar found in the mayor's car.  The Blues are still not getting past the 2nd round.  No one's shirt is untucked, ever… Trump Jr. is President and about 10% of the human race is living on Mars where Canada now resides. • Gigi & Papa: Dear Emmy, When you turn "21", I am certain the world will be very different than when I grew up and even more so than even today.  Technology is taking over.  Lots of things I grew up using are now obsolete.  Some things are for the best, but I cannot say that for everything.  Everything will be ordered on line.  Cars will drive and park themselves.  Fingerprints will  be the chosen form of identification.  Maybe you will live on the moon or at least travel there!  That sounds pretty cool.   As you get older, it's hard to accept change.  Us senior citizens dwell in the past and sometimes shun progress.  Life is what YOU make it! Kudos to you young folk who see the world differently and challenging .  How ever the world is,  Make it the best it can be for you and your loved ones and be happy!  Love you "21 year old" • Mommy: There are driverless cars, we are traveling and vacationing in space, cancer will be cured, computers will surpass human intelligence, cable tv will be gone and replaced by on-demand tv, virtual reality gaming will allow for multiple people across the world to play games in real life, health treatments are genetically tailored, healthcare will  be a team effort between you and your Dr, with education playing a big role, technology will keep your Dr updated on your health in between office visits.   First Birthday wishes for Emmy • Daddy: I wish that Emmy has another great year of learning, fun and happiness. I can’t wait to hear the words you learn next and playing with you gets more fun every day. I love you! • Uncle Brad: Happy Birthday Emmy!  Can't wait to watch you grow up and fly our space craft to Mars! • Auntie Jocelyn:  Emmy, I cannot believe you are turning one! You have been such a blessing to all of us.  Seeing your Mom become your Mommy has truly been one of the most beautiful things to witness.  I wish I lived closer to you, but I know things will change soon and we will be able to see you more! I hope this next year brings you all the love and happiness in the world.  You are the most beautiful little baby and I could not be more blessed to be your auntie!  Happy Birthday baby girl!  I love you! • Mommy:  Dear Emmy, On your first Birthday and each of your coming Birthdays, I wish you all the wonderful things that life has to offer: love, laughter, cake (and ice cream), adventures,  great friendships, passion, hopes and dreams that are realized. I love you so much! • Maria: Emmy, may you always know how much you are loved by so many! Happy birthday, sweetest girl ever!!!

[freecodecamper]

Let’s Talk About Some Really Serious *Bleep*

If you are reading this you can look at the date of when I first started this blog. This is kind of a summary that mixes the past, the present, and stuff that has happened since I last posted. I have a lot to talk about and I really hope this helps someone out there. 

Let me begin.

On Portals of Stability

You can’t function in this industry if you do not figure out a way to create a stable life for yourself. It does not have to be fun. It does not have to be wealthy. It does not have to be full of amazing people. It just has to be stable enough where you can focus on completing a specific goal at a specific time and not have that compete with anything else. 

So I recognize that you could be homeless but totally teach yourself how to code because if you have access to a library’s computer system and a dedicated time every day, all you need to do is show up. Things get a little bit more complicated if you have serious responsibilities to take care of or if you get really really really sick. 

Portals of stability are important because motivation runs out. Let’s say you gain enough skills with programming to enter the workforce and get some damn good job offers. But you don’t have a stable home situation for recovering from the stresses of life. Even though you have finally arrived at your goal of working in tech in a job based on your skills, you don’t have the emotional support you need to survive. 

All the women I know in tech that I would consider to be mentors and beloved friends have burnt the fuck out. I’m looking at them because they kind of represent a future that I can step into and I’m really thinking about... how I can be here without destroying myself. And that’s something that skills like programming don’t address. I don’t know what the answer is but I do know the difference between the women who burnt the hell out and eventually circled back and the women who did not is that the survivors figured out how to create stability by pursuing freelance situations where they did not have to be exposed to a daily violence present in a lot of tech workplaces. But they had to do a LOT to get the point of where they can pull that off. They had to be exposed to a lot of mental fuckery and sometimes physical violence. I don’t know if I have that in me for that specific field and yet I know I have no choice but to stay here. 

On How to Reconfigure an Unstable Life

So my life has been highly unstable almost since I was a kid. I kept running into these patterns where I’m already working under conditions that are set up against me. I last longer than I am expected to, but I still end up failing because I never had the resources I needed to begin with. 

Finally, it clicked one day that instead of doing this cycle that feels like a constant start, stop, start stop, start stop, brakes and pedal at the same time movement... I need to just rearrange my life. 

This meant getting rid of people.

This meant re-evaluating what time is to me.

This meant thinking about what I’d be upset with the most if I knew I was going to die this year without completing something.

This also meant letting emotional weights go - forgiving people, acknowledging trauma, acknowledging things I suck at but have too much pride to publicly admit, forgiving myself, giving myself time to physically heal and emotionally heal and breath - really breath. 

This also meant finding a job that works with me even if its not the job others think I should have. In other words, money is not everything if it constantly gets in the way of completing whatever the hell it is you want to complete. 

This also meant qualifying advice because most advice given (including possibly my own in this post) is fucked up, bad, and doesn’t relate to what you are actually going through. My mentors in tech come from backgrounds so vastly different from me that at a certain point they just could not relate. The economic conditions, the social conditions, etc., its just too wide of a gap sometimes when shit hits the fan. So I found that usually I was better off trusting my own gut instincts then doing the “right” thing and seeking the opinion of someone who supposedly has been there before me. There were exceptions but the exceptions where advice actually fit were so rare that I can count them on three fingers. 

This meant recognizing distractions. I have a digital addiction. I’ve been dealing with for the past couple of months. What I’ve been doing to recover since I definitely don’t have the money to get professional help is deleting apps and leaving my phone behind - sometimes in my car, sometimes at home. I gave up facebook because that was the worst one. I deleted LinkedIn which I hated because of its dark patterns anyway. I reduced my twitter use dramatically. But what actually has worked best is deleting apps during the week and installing them on the weekend plus monitoring when I feel the urge to use an app. Its always to push back something that I don’t want to feel. I also did a serious spring cleaning which was very helpful but also very intense because as soon as I got rid of a crapload of stuff a bunch of memories that had been buried underneath rose to the top and I had to deal with them with no place to run away. So yeah... it has been an intense emotional rollercoaster since the last time I posted. 

This meant also recognizing there is a spiritual element to this for me, that I won;t get into online because its really personal but if anyone reading wants to know I will gladly share. I do believe that sometimes stagnation and resistance is psychic in nature. The relationships we have with people impact us in ways we can’t always imagine....the things our parents and friends say....what they do and do not think we are capable of....the lies we tell ourselves both to make us feel better as well as to tear us down - all of that has a spiritual impact. 

So to summarize how to restructure your life to pursue what you want:

Get a job that gives you the time you need to make shit above the money you desire. If you can’t sacrifice your job you are going to have to come up with a hell of a plan. Maybe save money for a year or two and take a break from the world. It worked for one woman. She saved for three years, then taught herself how to code in one year. She made it but damn she gave up a LOT to pull that off. You have to recognize your sacrifices but a job that is on the schedule YOU NEED is the best thing you could ever give yourself. 

Remove people who don’t support you. Find people who are like you or who are where you want to be in the future.  You literally become who you hang out with. So if you currently are trying to learn how to code and you do not know any programmers, you are in danger. Find people online, offline, doesn’t matter, just find a person who also is doing what you are doing, and get to know them well enough where if you had a question you could hit them up for help. 

Don’t learn to code for money unless you like learning ( I do). This is a life long learning career where you will never stop updating and upgrading your skills. It's not like how some college degrees USED to be where once you get it, you are set, and you are just running a business that has already been established and going through the motions. It doesn’t work that way. There’s always a new protocol, a new best practice, a new language, etc. Just get started and once you start don’t stop if you can avoid it. 

Give yourself time to heal. Sometimes we don’t know we are sick, even physically sick. Stress can mask a fucked up situation. Figure out the best way for you to chill out and then examine what the heck is really going on with you. 

If you think you are battling some serious demons, deal with those demons before they grow and decide to force you to deal with them. A lot of my friends had breakdowns after graduating from college because there was nothing to distract them from dealing with the shit that was always calling for their attention. 

Read the War of Art by Steven Pressfield. He talks about resistance a lot. He also helps make you feel better when you learn that it takes some people years to overcome it. Where Pressfield is helpful is putting you in the mindset of a pro - like ok you know this bullshit is going to head your way and its going to get between you and what you want to do. Here is how to hold on tight and not completely give up. Here is how to figure out a path to finishing. My only complaint with the book is that sometimes finishing is not the best use of your time which leads me to the last thing I’ll mention.

Develop a way to know whether or not something is worth your time or you are cutting yourself short. Sometimes people stop working on projects because they get too hard. But sometimes people stop working on projects because life is too short and there are other things they value more. I’m of the belief that as long as whatever you are pursuing is something you wouldn’t mind dying while in the pursuit of, you should be ok. Yes I do mean dying in the pursuit of. If you know you would be upset at someone finding you slouched over a keyboard, dead, learning how to code instead of... spending time with your kid, writing the book you really want to write, living abroad, etc., don’t do it. But if you know you'd’ be ok with someone finding you dead over a keyboard busting your ass to learn how to code because this is something that actually means a LOT to you and is part of your life... that’s beautiful. I truly do mean that. 

Another way to think of number 7 is in terms of flow. You want to set up your life in such a way where you do more of the things you want to do then don’t want to do. I’m not talking about eating chocolate cake and pizza all day. I’m talking more along the lines of... if you are a people person and you enjoy talking to people, your everyday work should involve that. If you like solving puzzles your everyday work should involve that. If your everyday job does not, this means you aren’t in flow with your life. And who wants to be out of flow with their fucking life?

Anway as for me and what I have been up to... 

Working on stuff, using the skills I got from freecodecamp based on how far I got at the time. I’ve restarted it three times now. And each time I say it will be the last but nope. Haven’t pull that off. But if I took a gaming perspective to it, I will say that each time I dive back into freecodecamp I take away a little bit more. So maybe for some learners, the process of restarting is much more similar to starting from a game. You take in as much as you can stand for the moment, then go off into the world, use the skills you do have, and when you are finally ready to take on more - because your life is finally stable or you just feel its time - you do. 

I hope this is  helpful for someone out there. I’m kind of writing this to myself wishing I could send this to my past. I’m really grateful for the job I currently have. While its not glamorous it allows me time and time is the most precious thing in the entire world. 

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The Summer of Adventure: Threads of Fate

Original Release Date: October 14, 1999 (JPN)

Original Hardware: Sony PlayStation

I'll open this article with a little honesty. I had trouble with Threads of Fate, both playing it and writing about it. As with Legend of Mana, this was my first experience with the game. Unlike Legend of Mana, Threads of Fate wasn't better than I was expecting, or even as good as I had imagined. Fortunately, it's also not a bad game by any means, but it lacks a certain something. In reading up on the game's development, it became clear why I had trouble investing myself in this game. It's not meant to be a deep game or even a very serious one. The intended vibe was something like a cartoon for kids, and with that knowledge in tow, its lack of narrative substance or mechanical complexity makes complete sense. Still, this is the Summer of Adventure. I made my way through the game and am now trying to get this write-up together instead of just ignoring it and playing Chrono Cross.

I'm not sure where I got the idea that Threads of Fate was done by the same team as the 1998 action RPG Brave Fencer Musashi, but I was completely mistaken. Given how close their release dates were, I suppose that's understandable. Instead, the development team was largely filled with veterans of Chrono Trigger and Xenogears, along with a surprising amount of new faces. Even among those with experience, many team members were taking on new roles. Chief among them was Koji Sugimoto, the game's director. Sugimoto had only done programming work for the company before this game, with his debut being in the role of a visual programmer on Chrono Trigger. He was just 20 years old when that game was released, but somehow only a few years later was given the reins of a fairly major production. Threads of Fate would be the only game released where he served as a director. After that, he returned to his programming duties on titles such as Final Fantasy 10 and Crisis Core.

There are a number of notable staff members who contributed to the game. Makoto Shimamoto is credited with the original story idea and the event planning. He would be among the developers who left Square to continue the Xeno series at Monolith. Shimamoto was one of the main designers of the battle systems found in Chrono Trigger, Xenogears, Xenosaga, and Xenoblade. Like many members of Monolith, he also made contributions to The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, though the exact nature of his work on that title will likely remain a mystery. Threads of Fate's scenario was written by Daisuke Watanabe. At the time, he was a fresh face, but he would go on to earn writing credits on the entire Kingdom Hearts series, along with Final Fantasy 10, 12, 13, 13-2, and Lightning Returns. The soundtrack was composed by Junya Nakano in a rare solo effort. Nakano can frequently be found collaborating with Masashi Hamauzu on games such as Front Mission: Gun Hazard and Final Fantasy 10.

With all of that talent and more on board, you might expect something big from Threads of Fate. It's important to remember, however, that many of these future stars were still near the start of their respective careers. There's a sense of tentativeness about Threads of Fate that may well spring from that. It's not so much that the game lacks confidence, so to speak, but that it almost seems afraid of attracting too much attention. Indeed, as Square games of this era go, Threads of Fate might be the most forgotten. It's not the most thrilling or epic, nor is it memorably terrible, or even particularly unique. The interesting or unusual things it does do have failed to make much of a mark in the general gaming consciousness. As an example, one of the heroes of the game, Rue, wields one of those ridiculous-looking pizza-slicer weapons, but whenever that particular Square quirk is brought up, it's always in reference to Luso from Final Fantasy Tactics A2. 

According to an interview that director Sugimoto did with Gather Your Party a couple of years ago, Threads of Fate was built to satisfy three major goals. Like others on the team, he was just coming off of Xenogears, and he couldn't help but wonder if kids would be able to understand or enjoy games like that. He felt that kids were future customers that weren't exactly well-served by many of Square's games. Sugimoto wisely believed that for the sake of the company's future, they ought to start addressing that audience. As a programmer, Sugimoto really enjoyed doing 3D coding. Very little of Square's output at that time was in full 3D, so he wanted his game to cover that, as well. Finally, since this was his first shot at the director's chair, he wanted to come out of the gates with something exciting and lively.

Did he accomplish those goals? Well, to an extent, I guess he did. There's no denying that Threads of Fate is more kid-friendly than things like Final Fantasy 8 and Xenogears. The story certainly has some characteristically Square-like twists to it, but the tone is closer to a children's anime than the usual angsty teen adventure Square was largely turning out at the time. There are plenty of silly jokes, goofy expressions, and bits of physical comedy that help maintain that cartoony mood, and the game's true ending is really just an open-ended bridge to the next adventure. The gameplay is similarly light. Overall, there aren't many systems to grapple with, and each of the two heroes will only have to deal with a portion of them during their playthrough. Map designs are largely straightforward, and the combat system doesn't go much farther than stick-and-move. The difficulty is somewhat low in all respects. A single playthrough runs 15-20 hours or so, but you'll have to reach the end with both characters if you want to see an extra scene. That's a little on the longer side for an action-RPG, but I could imagine someone enjoying bashing things around for that length of time, even if I didn't.

For a fully polygonal game, Threads of Fate looks and runs quite well. Square was generally fond of using a mix of 2D and 3D assets in this period. Using 2D backgrounds freed up resources to make the 3D main characters look better than you would expect from the PlayStation, so it was a pretty good choice for the kinds of games Square was making. Threads of Fate went all-in on the polygons, and it's fairly impressive in that context. Comparing Threads of Fate to Brave Fencer Musashi makes it seem like the former is almost an entire generation ahead. While it's not quite as attractive as Mega Man Legends, it has a similar sort of appeal to its visuals. Come to think of it, the sense of humor isn't far off from that game's, either. The game makes good use of its 3D visuals with dynamic camera angles and combat mechanics that take the added visual depth into account.

While I won't go so far as to accuse the game of being dull, I think it's in the director's third goal that it stumbles the most. If the aim was to make something exciting and lively, I'd say that the team only halfway accomplished that. Amusingly enough, its main failure can be found in one of its notable selling points. The game has two protagonists, Rue and Mint. While they are both working towards the same goal, their narrative paths are quite different. The stories frequently cross over with each other, but the tone of each is quite distinct. Rue is seeking a relic that he hopes can bring his friend back to life. He ends up on a typical Square quest for identity once his origins are revealed. Unfortunately, his personality is exceptionally boring. The game is aware of that and hangs a hat on it often, but hanging a hat on something doesn't remove it from the room. Mint seeks the same relic, but for totally childish and selfish purposes. She wants to show up her younger sister and take over the world. She's a total brat, and she only evens out a little bit over the course of the game, thank goodness.

From a story standpoint, Rue's quest seems to be trying more, but it ends up being far too cliche. It also drags you through some really awful existential speeches. By contrast, Mint's story is a breath of fresh air. It's silly, shallow, and not afraid to be completely stupid if it thinks that will earn a chuckle. She's a princess who likes to jump-kick first and ask questions later, and she has an acute phobia of pumpkins that the game milks for all it's worth. I'll go as far as to say that the optimal playthrough of Threads of Fate is to play Mint's quest first, and then just leave it at that. Your only reward for doing Rue's side of things is an avalanche of Pinocchio winks and a brief cut-scene that sets up a never-to-come sequel.

It extends to more than just the story, though. Rue and Mint also have different gameplay styles. Mint can cast a variety of useful magic spells. Her repertoire constantly expands over the course of the game, and the only catch is that you need to keep an eye on your MP. Those points will slowly restore as you whack away at the enemies with physical attacks, giving the gameplay a nice balance between safe ranged strikes and risky but necessary close combat. Rue is a little different. He can change his shape into the forms of the enemies he fights. Unfortunately, he can only change into the last five enemies he has encountered, which makes that ability very unreliable. Rue has to depend more on his trusty weapon. Given the general lack of zip in the melee combat, it makes for a long slog. I suppose it's cool on paper, and I can't deny that it's an innovative way to introduce some puzzles outside of the normal action-RPG stuff.

Threads of Fate is at its best when it's being goofy. Its serious moments have been done many times before, and far better. But when it starts parading out its cast of bizarre NPCs, it's hard not to smile a little. Characters like the star-obsessed Duke, the self-absorbed Rod, or the garish Fancy Mel are not only weird and wonderful in their own right, they bounce off of the heroes really well. Especially Mint, who is frankly having none of this foolishness even as she is cranking up the absurdity all on her own. The game's localization doesn't try very hard taking any of this seriously, and although it comes off as rough and amateurish in places, neither of those qualities are particularly out of place in both this game and its era. The overall courseness that the English script is prone to is practically a perfect match for the bratty Mint, who isn't nearly as elegant or amazing as she thinks she is.

Had I encountered the game in the right time or place, I might have liked Threads of Fate better. It has charm to burn and it's certainly competent in most regards. I guess the problem is that it doesn't seem all that interested in being anything more than that. And while it's not a terribly long game in the grander scheme, any enjoyment to be gleaned from the gameplay is exhausted well before the credits roll on even the first playthrough. That's a long ride on silly jokes alone. That said, it's not hard to find people who absolutely adore the game, and it certainly got its fair share of positive reviews in its time. It's also probably unfair to expect so much from a game that was explicitly designed to appeal to children. Again, it's not a bad game at all. I'm not displeased that I played it. But I also didn't take much away from the game, so it's hard to say if people with no existing connection to it should bother diving back in time to give it a go. 

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Next: Chrono Cross

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