#part of me wants to be vauge in the tags but the other half wants people to see them.

[whatsasilverartistdoinghere]

And now I bring you my side ships for Undertale sanscest?

Their out of order in terms of which ones I like the most. Driller being the first, Crepic being second, Fellblue is third while NightOuter is fourth.

Errink is my otp aside from SansFrisk.

Once you get the hang of drawing Sans is becomes easy to draw the others. Just like with Sonic.

[katatty]

do you have any tips on decorating?? your lots are all so different and beautiful!!

Hi anon, thank you so much! I posted a few decorating tips forever ago HERE and there’s also a little bit of lot-building advice in my hood-building guide but let me see if I have anything new to add, (or just stuff I want to say again lol) Some of it might be building-related too but a lot of tips kind of apply to both, if that makes sense?

I can’t over-state how helpful it is to mimic other simmers styles and look at objects they use and quirks in their decorating! Obviously you don’t want to copy completely but it can be such a good jumping-off point when you’re getting started and trying to figure out your own style. I’m great at cluttered homes and more rural or old-fashioned decorating, but I always struggle with more urban builds or sleek, contemporary looks! That’s when I look at blogs like @frottanasmakeovers to get a few ideas, I especially love their kitchens & bathrooms? @deedee-simspiration is another blog I really love - her tagging system makes it easy to find exactly the sort of lot you are trying to build and get ideas! Oh and @danies-simsational-blog has some great stuff - the way she did the cornices on the roof of Divisadero Budget Books (wihout cc!) is something I hadn’t seen before and a trick I have lifted lots of times. Oh yeah & of course I have to mention Zarathustra on MTS even though I did that in my old posts too - his urban lots are absolutely incredible and I’ve gotten so many ideas from them...

Interior design magazines, pintrest boards and tumblr blogs are great for inspiration too! I don’t have a dedicated blog for this or anything but always save anything I think would be cool to try and replicate in the game. Even just google images can be really helpful! I like wandering about on google maps too - when I was building lots for Robin River I spent time on google street view checking out a few old American “ghost towns” - here’s the lot that vaugely inspired the coffee shop & grocery store! Naturally when you try to translate real-world stuff into TS2 it doesn’t come out identical, but that’s not always a bad thing :)

When decorating for the Jocque beach house I just googled “beach house interiors” and treid to look for ones with more dark woods and a slightly less washed out look, images like these were a big inspiration:

Again, they totally don’t match up exactly, but it’s where I got the idea to use dark wood for the walls and lots of mis-matched colourful furniture. The upstairs part of the house also uses a lot of furniture from the seasons EP because they look a little shabby-chic :)

Meanwhile the rugs & squares of carpet designed to look like rugs were inspired by this a simmer I found on MTS (there are some amazing lot-builds on there). Jymn did sometihng similar in this Stilted Starter House that I thought looked really cute and wanted to try & emulate!

If you get really into building eventually getting “simspiration” becomes kind of second-nature and you start seeing it everywhere lol - the number of times I have snapped a picture of a place I visited in real life to later try and re-create, haha. My other half has recently got into home renovation videos on Youtube - this video totally inspired me to get into building English-style rowhouses/flats.

I mentioned this in my old post but I always try to decorate with the residents of the house in mind - thinking about their socio-economic status, whether they’re more traditional or modern, stylish or functional, any interest or hobbies they have, etc. Popularity sims (like the Jocques) get living spaces designed to accomodate large parties! Knowledge sims are likely to have bookshelves everywhere & designated hobby rooms. Big families with lots of kids will have more cluttered homes with lots of toys everywhere and signs of life...

It really helps me to have a strong “theme” in mind - sometimes it can be kind of hard to figure out so I take a look at a sim’s interests. Realising the Bright household from SSU were all really into “paranormal” gave me the idea of giving their house a few “occult-y” touches which gave it a lot more life & made it less boring!

I give a lot of dorms & community lots “gimmicks” too, a lot of my dorms are kind of cheesy & unrealistic but they’re a lot of fun to build & play with:

Or stuff like medieval-themed restaurants, and vaporwave nightclubs! Thinking a little outside the box and commiting to an interesting theme really helps lots stand out, these have led to some of my favourite builds :)

I dunno if any of this is adding up to useful advice lol but hopefully it’s interesting and helps illustrate my thought-process when building & decorating. Basically look for inspiration everywhere & don’t be afraid to experiment with stuff that’s a little out of the box!

[damienthepious]

y’all already know why i’m here let’s just cut to the fic yeah? love you love youuuu

Something That Matters More

[ao3]

Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla, Lord Arum/Rilla

Characters: Lord Arum, The Keep, Rilla, Sir Caroline

Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Lizard Kissin' Tuesday, Seasons of the Citadel, Pre-Relationship, Canon Compliant, Suicidal Ideation, (canon-typical and kinda vauge but still), Alternative Perspective, Angst

Summary: When the Keep finally wakes again, Arum is still curled with his back against the front door.

Notes: The third and longest of my pieces for the @seasonsofthecitadel zine!

~

When the Keep finally wakes again, Arum is still curled with his back against the front door.

Perhaps he should have slept while the Keep did the same, but his mind races and roils without the buffer of his home, the soft influence at his edges. He cannot possibly rest while his thoughts are circling so, while he is haunted by the memory of Amaryllis’ voice and eyes and justified hatred, while the consequences of the loss of the Hermit loom large above him, while his knowledge of the Senate’s intentions grips him by the throat-

The Keep sings like stretching, a deep gradient of sound, and Arum scrambles to his feet again and he is relieved in a way he did not know he could be. His Keep is-

(saved, and he lifts Amaryllis without thinking, her warmth in his arms and her laughter in his ear and-)

Awake. Aware, again. It hums slow satisfaction and greets Arum with gentle vines and informs him that it believes the petrification has been reduced by half, at least, while it slept.

It pauses for a long moment then, and Arum can feel the Keep shivering off the metaphorical dust, can feel it pulsing its consciousness throughout the structure, taking inventory of itself besides just the shrinking blight. It hums confusion, and then-

A question.

Arum flinches, and drops his eyes.

“Gone,” he says, quiet. “Long gone by now, I should think.”

The Keep trills, confusion and concern and disappointment, and Arum… well, Arum agrees, but he cannot bring himself to say so. He sighs.

“The cause of your illness has been discovered, and we have made steps towards recovery. Amaryllis kept her end of the bargain.” His shoulders sink and he clings to the vines the Keep has draped around him. “I kept mine. We’re even, now. It is finished. She is gone.”

There is another pause, the feeling of a sigh drifting through their link. Then there is another sensation. A strange flicker of attention as the Keep takes stock of their wider territory, and then a sharp little lance of worry.

Arum tilts his head, narrowing his eyes, and after a moment he understands.

“Still… she is still in the swamp?” he asks, though he already knows the answer. “She should have reached the edge by now, no matter which direction she chose. She should be… well on her way back to her h- back to that Citadel. Why…”

Arum and the Keep feel out into the swamp together, reaching and searching, and they recognize the danger at the same moment.

The amalgam- the vicious little construct that Amaryllis created in her bid for escape-

It is still alive. Alive, and quite close to where Amaryllis is, right at this very moment.

“Keep,” Arum says, frantic. “Keep please I- a portal, now, bring me close, I must-”

He pauses.

“I must hold up my end of the bargain,” he finishes, voice uncertain. “If… it is not… if she does not escape my swamp alive, I have failed to satisfy our deal.”

This explanation is, by any estimate, unnecessary. The Keep is already constructing the portal as he speaks.

He has to wait an impatient moment as the Keep brings him a set of knives, but as soon as he is armed he is through to his wilderness, and he hears Amaryllis’ voice that very same moment.

“-and if we don’t get back and tell the Queen—” she says, her tone sharp, and Arum flinches hard when he hears another voice. Another human. The bisected corpse of the amalgam lies in the mud a few feet away, and the Keep informs him belated moments later that the creature is already dead.

“It sounds like we’re running out of time, then.”

Arum buries an instinctive hiss at the mocking in the unfamiliar voice. He creeps closer, slipping into the branches above as silently as he is able. An argument, then? Why would this stranger, a knight judging by the armor and the sword, why would they destroy the amalgam and protect Amaryllis only to speak to her so unpleasantly?

“We are!” Amaryllis cries, and Arum slips just close enough to see her from above, then, through the green. He sees her glaring up at the other human, her jaw set and her lips turned stubbornly down. She has only been away from him for so brief a time, but still he feels her presence again so keenly, so strangely.

“A fact which concerns you greatly.”

“It does,” Amaryllis grates out.

“Then in that case, I think you ought to get on with it,” the knight says, “and tell me: where is the lizard I must slay?”

Arum does not breathe, for a moment. It does not look as if Amaryllis breathes for that moment, either.

“Please…” Amaryllis says, and her eyes are wide and desperate, and Arum does not understand why she is hesitating. “He’s…”

“He’s what?” the other human says, hungry and eager.

There is a breath of pause, and then Amaryllis’ shoulders sink, her head drooping. “He’s… that way,” she says, halfway a sigh, hopeless and dull.

Arum is not disappointed by this. He is not surprised. He held this human against her will, kept her a prisoner, and despite any understanding they may have come to, they were only ever going to be enemies when all was said and done. A war is on, he had told her, and clearly she understands that. Arum is a monster, responsible however indirectly for countless deaths, and soon to be responsible for countless more. It is perfectly logical for her to explain to this knight where to find him. How to kill him. He never asked for her forgiveness, and he never expected it. He is not disappointed-

But when Arum pushes past the pressure in his lungs, when he makes his eyes focus on Amaryllis again, she is pointing in the wrong direction. She is pointing- as near to the opposite direction from the Keep as she could possibly manage.

Arum stares, his claws digging into the bark of the tree he is clinging to. What is she- why-

Her shoulders are tight, and when the knight looks in the direction Amaryllis is pointing with a satisfied half-smile, Amaryllis’ eyes raise again, narrowed and angry for only a moment before the knight turns her attention back and Amaryllis flattens her expression to something resigned.

She is- Amaryllis is-

She is aiming the knight away from Arum and his Keep. Deliberately. Intentionally.

Arum cannot focus on the words that follow, because he is staring at the little doctor, his mind turning and turning as he tries to reconcile that knowledge, the idea that she- that Amaryllis- that she would protect him. That she is protecting him. That she would look a knight in the eye and lie for him.

The knight is helping her move, now, and Arum understands what Amaryllis means to do only a moment before they step into the sunlight. Into the patch of gold, pooling among the duller green.

A stubborn, stubborn part of him wants to leap to save the Hermit, to protect it from that light it so dearly desires, but-

Arum knows what it is, to cling to the desire for life for so very long. An unceasing and unrelenting toil, because to loosen his grip on that desire will spell his end. Yes, Arum knows how it feels to live because he wants to live in some obstinate, contrarian way. To live because he must.

Arum knows, also, how exhausting that is.

Perhaps the Hermit deserves to rest, now.

It chimes one last time before it is kissed once, and only once, by honeyed light.

Its creations, Arum’s creations- those that remain will live on, their impact yet to be seen, but the potential of the Hermit ceases in an instant. The knight complains, but Arum is not listening. He spares attention for Amaryllis’ deflection only because he is- he is unsure he has ever seen her fully in the sunlight before.

He does not have the words for Amaryllis in the sun. Not even in his own mind. Some moments are too big for such small things as words. He hopes this moment is not too big for memory, as well.

He feels her absence, stretching into his future like a missing limb, like a wound. She steps out of the narrow shaft of light, and Arum’s eyes follow her. Of course they do.

She is brighter, by far, than the light she leaves behind.

Arum exhales, slow and unsteady, and forces himself to stop watching as she walks away. He- he came out here to ensure that she would not die before she left his swamp, he reminds himself, and he needs not worry himself over the matter, now. His assistance is not required.

She is with a knight, one dangerous enough to slay a magical construct that even he and his Keep failed to effectively destroy. Amaryllis will be safe, even if the knight seems- obnoxious and unpleasant. She will be safe. She will be…

He stills, claws digging into the wood.

No.

No, Amaryllis will not be safe, even with her grim-eyed bodyguard. She will not be safe.

She will leave his swamp with her eyes sharp and her heart still beating strong, but out there, out in the wider world, out with the rest of her kin-

She will die.

The thought hits Arum with the force of an arrow as he watches them walk away, the knight urging Amaryllis ahead of her despite the limp and the shoddy crutch. The both of them are going to die. All of them. Amaryllis, and- and every human. The entire Citadel. The place Amaryllis claims as home. If the Senate is successful, if they manage to force his prototype into a quicker growth-

They are all going to die.

Arum already knows this. Of course he does. Arum knew, when the Senate came to him, what they intended. He knew, with the power of the Hermit, that their goals might even be possible.

He knew, and did not care. Or- worse. He cared only that the end of this war would mean that the Senate would have no call to ever contact him again, or to conscript his services. If the war were to end, if humanity were eradicated-

It would have been convenient, for Arum.

Convenient. Amaryllis dead, and he would never have…

Without her, his Keep would be dead as well. He has no misapprehensions about that. And now, now she has aimed this knight of the Citadel away from him, and from his home. She has destroyed a tool she could have used to defend her people (he knows she is clever enough to learn to use the Hermit to its potential, he has no misapprehensions about that, either), but she chose to destroy it rather than allow it to be used and misused, and Arum-

Arum would have destroyed her, sight unseen.

(Would have destroyed Sir Damien, as well. Another bright, stubborn, fascinating creature he never would have known, another clever, infuriatingly charming-)

She is gone now. Step by step, further and further from Arum and his Keep. Far, far beyond him. Arum is alone in his own domain again, just as he desires. Alone, and the Keep on the mend, and he could simply return home now. He can tuck himself into the safety of his Keep and duck his head and wait to see who triumphs, the humans or the Senate. He can hide away in safety as he has always done, until the dust settles at last on this pointless conflict.

But there are consequences to his actions, and there are consequences to his inactions, as well.

If the humans perish, he will bear his share of responsibility for their fate. He will have their blood on his claws.

(He has already suffered honeysuckle’s blood on his claws.)

If the Senate destroys them, it will be with the weapon Arum created.

Arum chose not to kill Sir Damien in their duel, chose to let him stand and fight again. He chose not to kill Amaryllis, chose to let her walk away.

It is- ridiculous, of course, but-

Arum could be content to continue on alone, secluded from the world, if he knew they were somewhere, safe and bright and alive, even if they were far from him. Knowing that they will die, from his action and inaction-

It is unacceptable. He cannot bear- he could not endure it.

If that is the price for his survival, Arum- Arum refuses to pay it. He would rather pay his own life than theirs.

A strange realization to come to, ten feet in the air with his claws digging deeper by the moment into bark. He releases his grip on the poor flora at last, and drops down to the muddy ground below. He steps closer to the little pool of sunlight where the Hermit met its end, but he does not quite step into the light.

There is no trace left of the bloom, not a glimmer of magic or a sprinkling of dust.

The Senate intends to use Arum’s creation in their plan, but it is still… flawed. Slow-growing, unpredictable, and perhaps just as dangerous to monsterkind as to the Citadel, despite the focal object Arum managed to obtain.

… perhaps Arum could petition the Senate for the opportunity to amend those flaws. Perhaps, if Arum could just get close enough, he could-

Arum could… what? Sabotage the thing? Endeavor to destroy it? Even if he were successful, he would never survive the attempt. The Senate would annihilate him, burn him out from his bones, and then-

(Amaryllis aims the knight towards a false trail, fire in her dark eyes, and holds the Hermit out in sunlight)

(Damien gives a scrap of silk not his own, and allows Arum to rise again)

(the nature of caring is sacrifice)

And then, even with Arum dead, Amaryllis would be safer. Honeysuckle would be safer. The Senate would not even be able to then use Arum’s talents or the Hermit to further endanger their species. The Keep would grow a new familiar to follow him, and the Universe would continue on as it always has.

It is not a meticulously constructed plan, but it is not without merits, he thinks with a breath of grim laughter. The Keep will certainly not approve, but the Keep nearly died because Arum failed his duty as caretaker, because he failed through inattention to both of their needs.

Perhaps the Keep deserves a better Lord than he.

He will not resign himself to that fate, though. Despite all likelihood, he will choose to believe that he will survive this mad new strategy. In any case, he would rather not cause the Keep to mourn, and he suspects, as well, that Amaryllis would disapprove of that sort of hopelessness.

He crouches down and reaches to scrape up a clawful of rich, wet soil, watching as some tumbles dark between his fingers to find the ground again. He smiles, wistful, and tucks the dirt into a satchel at his side.

Arum will come home, if he is able. If the universe grants.

But first, there is something more important he must do.

[ettawritesnstudies]

Ten questions tag

Thanks for the tag @whicheverwarrior ! Sorry I’m so late getting to this!

1. How did you come up with your WIP’s title? What does it mean in relation to the story?

“Storge” is the greek word for familial love which is a major theme of the book, and it's my favorite part of the worldbuilding.

2. Do you title your chapters? If so, what’s your favorite?

I do! The current favorite is “Aahhh gotta love the sweet smell of a moral dilemma in the morning” They’re all snarky though so it changes on a daily basis

3. What’s a recent line you really like?

“how’re you feeling?”

Luca made a half-hearted shrug and let the sword evaporate into the air. the sharp edge of the blade softened and the magic broke into flits of fire that rose and dissipated behind him as he sat down on the lookout.   

4. Are there any writing-related quotes you really like?

“An author is just an aspiring writer who wrote the damn book” - @jennamoreci. Teaching me how to write and calling me tf out since 2015

5. Do you have an idea for the cover design for your story?

I have a really REALLY vauge idea and I’m going to mock up a couple of cover design concept arts as soon as I have the chance. It’s going to be pretty epic but the thing I have envisioned involves glow/fire effects that you can only really get from digital art and I only have bic pens, printer paper, and exactly one art class to my name so it’s going to have to wait.

6. What sort of AU can you imagine your story being?

Published? Urban fantasy or steampunk probably. If Storge ever gets published and has a fandom I hope to see at least one college/high school AU :P

7. Which OC would be the most angry with you as the writer?

mmmmmmmmm. Luca’s probably been through the most shit but he’s also not one for anger so probably Grace. Grace would try to deck me.

8. If you had to tell the story from a different POV, which character would you choose?

It’s already 3rd person omniscient, so this doesn’t really apply since everyone gets the chance to talk. Keenan would be cool - he’s a minor side character who shows up for a couple chapters and doesn’t really get much of a POV.

9. What would be your OC’s taste in music if they lived in our world?

Luca - Pop/R&B

Grace - Disney soundtracks and Fall out Boy

Enne - classic prog rock and alt-rock

Grace - classical or indie

Acheran - All of the above + literally anything not mentioned, on one playlist, constantly on shuffle,  including those youtube videos like “All-Star but backward and sped up every other note.” He hasn’t even heard all the songs on said playlists he just adds entire albums indiscriminately and figures he’ll like it at some point via Stockholm Syndrom because he’s too lazy to take that song off the playlist, so he’ll end up humming along to it eventually.

10. What’s one personal goal you want to achieve by the end of the story?

Not writing in passive tense all the time would be nice. Finishing would also be fantastic. 

Tagging! @phahbiyah @sybilius @sunrisecitrusuniverse

[jackiesarch]

safe & sound

please enjoy this 1.5k excerpt that no one asked for from the 100k epic i’m writing (procrastinating) in which the junior deputy and jacob seed were childhood bffs torn apart and reunited that fateful day in the church.

rating: t

tags: teenage jacob seed!!!!, teenage dep, hurt/comfort, vauge descriptions of abuse

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

The rock hits her window pane just as she finishes putting on her pyjamas. Lucy claps a hand over her mouth to muffle her shriek. It’s late — late enough that the house is silent, late enough that she shouldn’t even be awake — and her heart leaps into her throat at the vulnerability of it all.

Someone is outside.

Lucy tiptoes toward the window. The bottom pane is open because it’s only May, but the evening air is sweltering. She looks up and sees a tiny chip in the glass of the top pane.

“Hello?” she calls tentatively.

She’s a foot away from the window, her hands shaking, and when she reaches it she sticks her head out to take a look. The window ledge feels like it might splinter in her grip. Her knuckles are white.

There’s someone standing in the lawn below. Lucy’s heart is thundering in her chest.

A car turns the corner at the end of the street, and the headlights pan across the side of the house just enough that she catches a glimpse of the intruder’s face.

“Jesus Christ,” she hisses. “Jacob, what the hell?”

“Hey.”

Hey. Hey? Lucy thinks she might throttle him if she gets her hands on him.

“You scared the shit outta me!”

“Sorry. You okay?”

Her pulse is doing its damnedest to regulate itself. The trip from pure fear to irritation has left her dizzy.

“No, I’m not okay!” Lucy hisses. Then, as an afterthought: “What’s with the tossing rocks at my window anyway? We do have a front door, you know!”

Jacob is once again cast in shadows, but Lucy is almost certain he’s scowling at her.

“I didn’t want to wake your parents up!”

They stare at each other for a moment. Lucy is afraid of what she’ll see when she lets Jacob into the house. He doesn’t come over in the middle of the night unless it’s bad.

“Just...go around front. I’m coming down to unlock it.”

She shuts the window and tiptoes out of her room, down the stairs, into the front hallway. The outside light is on, and Jacob’s silhouette fills the window next to the door. Lucy unlocks the door, breathes deep, and pulls it open to let him step inside.

“Holy shit.”

For a moment, she thinks she might be sick. Jacob is bloody. His lip is split open at the corner, blood leaking past the edge of his mouth and down onto his chin. She thinks his nose is broken - there’s a trickle of dark blood leading from his left nostril, collecting just above his lip. Part of her wants to close her eyes and pretend that’s the worst of it, but she knows better. Her eyes trail down his chest, and Christ - there are spots where the dark grey of his shirt is marred by even darker spots of blood, the material sticking to his chest.

“Jesus, Jake,” Lucy says. Her throat feels like it’s going to close up. “What happened?”

Jacob says nothing. His hands shake. The muscles of his jaw clench and unclench. When Lucy looks him in the eyes, she can only see barely restrained fury.

She loves Jacob, but this quiet anger scares her. He deserves to be angry, has all the reasons in the world to hate and rage, but Lucy is terrified that one day he’s going to do something he’ll regret. The last thing she wants is to lose him.

“Okay,” she murmurs. “Okay. Let’s get you cleaned up. Come on.”

He doesn’t say anything, just follows her up the stairs to her bedroom, sits in the same spot on her bed where he always sits. Lucy hands him a box of tissues, and Jacob takes one to swipe at the blood under his nose.

“I’m gonna get some stuff. I’ll be right back.”

The bathroom is at the end of the hall, and Lucy darts towards it quietly. The house is silent. She knows her parents wouldn’t care if they knew Jacob was here, but she doesn’t want to wake them up if she doesn’t have to. There’s peroxide in the medicine cabinet, gauze and bandages in the vanity drawer. Lucy scoops up everything she can carry and heads back to the bedroom.

Jacob hasn’t moved. He’s holding a tissue to his nose and staring blankly at the wall. Almost tentatively, she sits down next to him, stashes her supplies on the bed next to her, and reaches for his face.

“C’mere.”

He turns his head toward her, still quiet, still raging inside, and lets her wipe at his upper lip with a damp cloth. The blood comes off easy, like it was never there in the first place, but the damage to his nose is done.

“Is it broken?” she asks.

“No.”

“You sure?”

“I think I would know if it was, Lucy.”

Jacob’s humour has always been deadpan at best, nonexistent at worst, but even Lucy can’t discern if he’s annoyed or just joking. She decides not to ask.

Silence smothers the air in the room as she moves the cloth to his lip. Jacob flinches, grits his teeth — Lucy mutters an apology and eases up the pressure on the cut.

“Are Joe and John—“

“Fine,” Jacob interrupts. “They’re fine.”

They’re safe, then. That just means that Jacob has borne the brunt of it. Lucy tries and fails to smother the hatred pooling in her belly. The best she can do is try not to let it consume her.

When his face is clean, Lucy runs the pad of her thumb over his cheekbone. In the morning, bruises will blossom in the corners of his eyes, skin mottled and purple from the blow to his nose. His bottom lip is swollen but not bleeding. There will be a scab there when she wakes him up for school, and she knows she’ll have to stop him from picking at it during the day.

She hates this.

“Take this off,” Lucy says eventually, gesturing to his shirt. “Almost done.”

Jacob looks down like he’s somehow forgotten about the wounds on his chest. He reaches for the hem and pulls it up slowly. The blood has started to dry on his skin, and when he drags the shirt over his head, the cuts open again. Fresh blood starts to drip. Lucy cringes.

“Oh, Jacob,” she whispers. Without thinking, she leans forward and places her fingertips on his breastbone. “I’m sorry.”

She feels him tense under her touch. Jacob hates pity more than anything in the world. It makes him feel weak, useless - it’s a fear he’d confessed quietly one night as she helped him put John to bed.

She doesn’t apologize. Instead she cleans his wounds carefully, wiping them down with peroxide, flinching when Jacob hisses at the sting. The cuts are dents in his skin, like square brackets, and Lucy knows they’re from a belt buckle. She knows they’ll scar.

Just more marks on the landscape of his skin. He is sixteen, and his chest is a topographical map. It shouldn’t be that way.

The process becomes hypnotizing, mundane in its execution - one wound at a time, a swipe of peroxide, a bandage placed neatly and firmly over it. Eventually, Lucy finds herself on the last cut, a deep one under his left nipple. When she’s done, she leans back and stares at the bandage wrappers littering her bed.

“Done.”

“Thanks,” Jacob says. His voice sounds strained. Lucy thinks he might be trying not to cry. “Sorry. You shouldn’t have to do this.”

“Shut up,” Lucy says gently. She smiles weakly at him. “Stay the night?”

“‘Course.”

Before he can say anything else, Lucy darts out and wraps her arms around him. His skin is warm against hers, sticky from the humidity in the house. Lucy tucks her head into the crook of his neck and breathes.

The fight leaves him immediately. The tension in his body melts and he snakes his arms around her, clinging like an octopus and squeezing her tight.

“Love you, Jake.”

She feels him smile against her shoulder.

“You’re only saying that because you got me half-naked in your bed.

When she pulls back, laughing, Jacob is starting to look a fraction more like himself. Lucy sweeps the bandage wrappers off the bed and pats the pillows.

“Bedtime. School tomorrow,” she says. “If you’re lucky my dad’ll probably make you pancakes for breakfast.

Jacob crawls up the bed and lays next to her on his back, tugging the blankets up over him. She’ll never understand how he can tolerate the covers against his skin in the Georgia heat.

“Love that man,” Jacob says, his eyes slipping closed.

Lucy leans over and switches off the light.

[dappers-house]

Why I despise Overwatch. Wall of Text hidden for your convenience. AKA: Dapper loses the last few friends he has left.

So, another day, another group of friends lost. You think at some point I’d be used to not being allowed to be happy, but it always seems to catch me off guard.  Maybe this time it’s that people I considered friends value me less than a game. A game that is objectively worse than it’s contemporaries, a game that is run by some of the worst people in the business, but I’m getting ahead of myself. 

So, I won’t drag any names through the mud, but context here, for those who enjoy that sort of thing, is that a discord group made up of tumblr users exists, and, until last night, I was a part of it. I use that term, ‘part of it’ loosely, as I kinda existed at the fringes, due to my own natural introversion, but, I still liked being around them. We disagreed, but hey, c’est la vie, ya know? 

This, however, ended after I commented, apropos of nothing, I’ll admit, of my disbelief of the blatant theft of a character from Paladins, a game which I consider superior, but only just. It wasn’t meant to start a conversation, mind, just a comment left for the sake of commenting. However, if you know the majority of Overwatch fans, this wouldn’t stand. What followed was one member of the group becoming upset that I would dare to say something unkind about Overwatch, and even more upset that I pointed out it’s objective (not subjective) flaws, such as it’s lower number of characters and game modes to other games of a similar nature, I.E. Paladins and Battleborn. 

I feel I should mention here I don’t try to sway people. Like what you like, I’ll like what I like. But I will not be lied to. If you like a game, I don’t care, but don’t sit there and tell me it’s flaws don’t exist. I said as much, and even pointed out my own love of some objectively bad games, namely Anarchy Reigns.

I stepped away from Discord, closing it out so that it wouldn’t escalate, and they could cool off. As moderators were starting to show up. And I’ve lost groups of friends before because I dare not like Overwatch, and I didn’t want this to be another group. My wife, also a member of this group, told me that they had misunderstood my intentions, and thought I was getting upset and telling them not to like the game, or saying they were wrong for liking it. And also told me there was worry that my walking away was me leaving the group, which she corrected.

Time passed, and I went back into the group after an hour or so to say goodnight, and make a joke regarding another game I’ve been playing, and I’m greeted with the other party, and a third party, insulting me in the same chat the moderators said to stop the conversation, due to me not liking the game. The moderator active (though not in that conversation), and saying nothing. And so, I left. If I mean that little to these people, then I don’t want to cause trouble by being around if it’s just going to be okay to attack me due to my opinions, and facts they don’t like. This caused another breakdown for me, as, frankly, these were the last group of people that even know I exist, let alone give a damn about that fact, and once again, Overwatch has ruined that. Chalk that up for another kill Activision is responsible for in regards to my happiness. -TL;DR- Overwatch fans throw a hissy fit that I don’t like the game, don’t like my reasons, and I get warned to not start things, then insulted, and leave the last group of friends I had.  ---- So, context established, the natural question is what is my beef with Overwatch. And that’s more or less the point of this rant. To have something I can simply point to when asked why I dislike Overwatch. Short and sweet: I abhor it as a game designer, and Blizzard is run by some of the worst people I’ve ever seen. To say nothing about the fan-base, which tend to almost universally be terrible, terrible, hypocritical people. A touch of backstory on me. I’ve been making games and studying them, both as a hobby, for around 13 years now, starting with RPGmaker on the PS1, and moving on from there. I’ve also given Overwatch three chances, once in Beta, once on release, and once when Sombra dropped. So, I’m speaking from experience here. Let’s start with the objective things first, since, ya know, there’s plenty of them, and they’re objective. -Point 1: Is half a game- First of all, it’s half a game, released for full price. (I know, I know, you CAN go jump through hoops to try to find the non ‘origins edition’ for 40, but even 40 USD is still too much for a single game mode and a handful of characters.) There’s no denying this as a fact, that the game simply isn’t a full game, and isn’t deserving of any higher of a price tag than 20-30 bucks at most.  (Subjective note: It also didn’t feel done, and frankly, still feels like a beta that they pushed out early.)  I’d also like to point out that when Titanfall 1 did this, it was rightfully lynched for being just a multiplayer game with no single player, but Blizzard does it, and it’s ok? -Point 2: Less than it’s peers- Compared to it’s contemporaries, as mentioned above, it had, and has, less content overall. I admit my numbers may be a bit off here, but, bear with me.  Overwatch, at release, had 21 characters, and has since released three Free-LC characters. Battleborn, at release, had 26 characters, and has since released four paid characters, free with it’s season pass. (which, when paired with the game, ran it about 60 bucks, average game price.) Paladins is still in beta, and has 26 characters, and is still releasing more, all of which can be purchased with in game currency. -

Overwatch, at release, had three modes, though, more accurately, this was one mode, and then two modes splitting the mode into two.  They have since released some variations, such as deathmatch, and an utter failure of capture the flag, as well as some event mini-games.  Battleborn, at release, had three modes, and a story mode as well, and has since released another mode, and released bite sized story episodes.  Paladins, while still in beta, has three modes. 

The fact is, Overwatch simply has less. Does this make it a worse game? Not at all. Quality will nearly always trump quantity in these cases, however, that is a case for the subjective points later on. -Point 3: The price point- As mentioned above, Overwatch goes for around 40-60 USD, which, considering it’s been out for over a year and no drop in price, is still frankly a bit ridiculous. However, that is subjective, as Nintendo has a bad habit of doing the same thing. This, however, is NOT the end of the price. As anyone who’s seen anything about this game knows. The Lootboxes exist. And they are terrible. It’s been found recently, as of April, 2017, it would cost $3000 USD, with accounting for dupes, to get everything in Overwatch, or, if you wanted to get it all by playing, over 3500 hours. And they’re only adding more.   You could argue these are all optional and cosmetic, but any game developer worth their salt will tell you cosmetics matter, and, add to it they’ve intentionally developed the game to make the cosmetics the only reason to play (I’ll cover this below), and it’s not a good argument to make.  So, total price for the complete package: ~$3050 Battleborn has been hit by poor sales, thanks to Overwatch (and rumors of OW releasing early to step on BB’s release date), so the price of admission has gone down. To get in with the Season Pass, it’ll run you $45 USD. However, the season pass doesn’t include the recent skins or taunts released for cash (each around 2-3 USD.) or the new characters (each around 5 USD). However, it does net you all of the new story missions, and I think two characters. Once again, my numbers may be off. However, these are purchased, DIRECTLY, no lootboxes involved. The only lootboxes in the game are purchased with in-game currency earned by playing the game. Total price for complete package: ~$80 Paladins is a free to play game, so, yeah, it’s going to get hit hard with the after-market fees. However, Hi-Rez has always been good about this, and offers a ‘founders pack’ which includes every character they’ve ever made and ever will make for 30 USD. However, as I feared, they’ve taken inspiration from Blizzard with Lootboxes, so this is a bit harder to count, as the dupes from Paladins lootboxes can only be used to effect gameplay, by purchasing their cards for their card system. They also give out 3 free lootboxes a day, so.. Total Price for complete package: Unknown. 

So, while it possibly beats out Paladins (though this is unknown.), it is a far FAR cry from being a good value, or beating out Battleborn.  ---Point 4: Story and Lore--- I’m not going to talk about quality here, I’ll cover that later, all I’m talking about here is the quantity thereof.  Overwatch has very, VERY sparse story. Limited entirely to it’s opening cutscene, which gives us very vauge knowledge of what’s going on, and why. Add to that the knowledge the game is non-canon, means it’s all bunk.  ‘But Dapper’ I hear you say ‘there’s tons of cinematic and comics and lore online’ Yes. Online. Out of the game. I remind you how badly Destiny was roasted for the same thing with it’s Grimoire, and again, rightfully so. And at least all of that was included out of the gate, and in a single location. I do NOT count anything out of the game. 

Conversely, Battleborn has a great emphasis on story, with detailed backstories for every character, talking about their relationships with one another, moments of their past and items they cherish, and how they fit into the story, not to mention the plot itself, which spans 8 chapters (and a prologue), and has a major focus on it. Not to mention with NPCs and enemies being given unique characteristics and personalities. 

Paladins, once again, is about equal with Overwatch, even a bit worse, as, to my knowledge (I’ve accidentally deleted the files to the game, so I can’t check) it doesn’t even bother with the barest story at all. 

---Point 5: Production values/intros.---- Overwatch: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=my_xYR_egvQ A bust shot of a character talking, while occasionally flashing still images. Battleborn: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sai7jPmYg5k An animated intro detailing the plot, before a music video that leads directly into the game. Need I say more?

---Point 6: The Skinner box---

Here’s where I start getting a little more controversial. I should preface this by saying I am well aware most games, especially RPGs and ESPECIALLY MMOs live and die off the Skinner box. It’s tried and true, and it works. I play FFXIV for gods sake. That’s not my problem with Overwatch. My problem is there’s nothing else.  For those who don’t know, I won’t get TOO deep into it, but the Skinner Box, as it applies here, is a very simple method of reinforcement, basically, rewarding the player in some arbitrary manner every so often, while spacing the rewards out to keep the player interested.  I know I’m grossly oversimplifying it, but that’s the gist of it. Google it if you want more. As an example: Every time you level up in an RPG, you get a happy noise, maybe some visual reinforcement, and you feel happy. If they do that to much, you get used to the happiness, and you lose interest in the leveling up. Too little, and you don’t keep the happiness long enough to get the next level.

This should sound familiar if you’ve ever played Overwatch, as it’s the entire design of the game. It’s a blatent, unabashed skinner box. Every hour or so (depending on play), you get a level up, a flash of color and sound, and a lootbox, which has even MORE color and sound. This conditions the player to associate the lootbox, rather than the level, with the feeling of joy. But, what if you don’t want to wait that hour for another hit of dopamine? Well, you can just pay money to get another one RIGHT NOW!  It’s gross as a concept, and is a big reason of why I despise the game.

---Point 7: The impact.--- This is admittedly much more...I don’t know, not subjective, but also much less objective.  The fact of the matter is, I love this industry, but it is an industry based on cash, and voting with ones wallet. And what is Overwatch showing this industry? It’s showing that people will pay huge sums of money for pulls on a virtual slot machine to MAYBE win a cosmetic skin. That people will pay full price for a game without a single-player, and with no story.  This has already begun effecting the game industry, as we have already begun to see games that you pay full price to buy into, but then still have micro-transactions. And I don’t mean to the effect of DLC. We, and by we I mean the gamers who bought Overwatch, and continue to buy Loot Boxes, are showing the industry that we will accept free to play practices in our full price games.  THAT is not a message I want to send.  Of course, I have subjective points too, but they are, well, subjective.  -Sub 1: Every OW character is a rip-off, cliche, or both.--- To my knowledge, OW has done not a damn thing original. They either will strait rip off outside sources for characters (Winston is just Beast from Xmen)or move-sets (Mei is literally Ymir with a ranged ult) or they will just make generic cut outs. Mcree is ‘the Cowboy’. D.va is ‘The Gamer.’ etc. Nothing of substance there at all.  --Sub 2: Acti-Blizzard is openly hostile to it’s fans.-- We all love a good roasting from a company don’t we? Hell, Wendy’s has begun making a name for itself just from that. However, there’s Wendy’s making fun of people making fun of them, and there’s Blizzard insulting players for pointing out their Match making is broken. They’re default reaction to ‘why am I placed with bad players.’ is “well, we place you with what your skill is.” Out and out insulting players if they complain they’re placed with people who they feel aren’t equal to them in skill, as well as the players they’re referring to. This, of course, isn’t even counting how they treat the WoW fanbase. I’m aware that’s a different game, but it’s the same company.  Reminder: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0Wrw3c2NjeE --Sub 3: HOW CAN YOU FAIL MAKING CAPTURE THE FLAG-- I mean..really. Even children know how to play CtF. I’ve ranted more than enough, and I’ve got other reasons to hate this game, but you may notice one thing I don’t talk about. The Gameplay.  In a vacuum, I’d have no problem with Overwatch, It’s gameplay is average. Mediocre. It fills the space without being too offensively bad.  But we don’t live in a vacuum, my friends. There’s more to Overwatch than just it’s gameplay.  Hopefully this gives a basic idea of where I’m coming from, even though I’ve written entirely too much here.  I come from a place of love. Not love for Overwatch or Blizzard, and definitely not for activison, But love for gaming in general. Love for this medium that has such potential to show us new places, give us new experiences, and tell us new tales. Love for the crazy, messed up bunch of folks that call this ‘hobby’ a lifestyle, and all the friendships and relationships that can come from it.  A love I don’t want ruined by excessive greed and sloth.