Right, nerds. Especially American nerds, here's Wilderun for you, from Boston. Last time I shared music, it went well. This is my driving music.
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@fleshwerks
Right, nerds. Especially American nerds, here's Wilderun for you, from Boston. Last time I shared music, it went well. This is my driving music.
Still doing good, though she's been losing weight steadily, and is no longer a fat cat. This is not good. Her not being a fat cat.
whoever does live 'under the lighthouse' is a PETTY LITTLE B*.
i like the game, but i'm not particularly affected by the psychological horror because i can't get over how this eldritch being's modus operandi is to act like a bored corvid. just shit all over my house, hide my shiny shit and break everything.
though now i gotta wonder if eldritch entity is just as annoyed with me as i am with it.
edit no actually this game's cute. now mf just broke my roof and then stuck around to peep in the window to see what i do before zooping out when i made eye contact. it's not meant to be a cute game, but i'm increasingly adopting the constitution and temper of a responsible and incredibly annoyed roommate. islandmate?
edit: now in the 2nd half of the game where shit's supposed to get more real but i'm only like 'i'm going to shoot this entity for fucking with my stuff'.
edit 2: chase ME, skitters? get fucked. Broke my roof and cut my rope. You're dead, kiddo.
Ok but the dread chick haunting me, descending slowly into the well as I approach it, it is like a tiny 'edge of vision' gentle jumpscare, kind of like a horse spotting something foreign on the road, and then
then i remember i'm carrying a bucket, and i'm gonna drop it down the well on a hook for water RIGHT NOW. and suddenly it's funny, girl just sliding into the well, and then the mental image of me immediately dropping a whole bucket and some chain. haunt this, samara
Something shocking has happened. I keep playing Dread Fields, and I started sketching, it's an environment that demands that you sketch. I have made four in the span of 12 hours, by hand, with a fine liner, in a sketchbook.
Now remember, I'm a burned out digital artist who doesn't do detail, who prefers painting and texture, and likes to have a lot of space to work with. My sketchbook is an A6 format thing, my hand hurts from all the hatching and linework. But four sketches, fellas. Because of a scary little farming sim.
I have drawn a shitty cat and a worse cow, a shitty cat and a horrible axe and apple tree, a horrible interior scene with clues and observations about the details in the game that I feel will be important in the story, into it, and a shovel with giant earth worms surrounding it.
All story-pertinent.
The fine liner's driving me nuts, I cannot get the shadows right the way I can with a big brush, but I feel like the tiny sketchbook's helping a lot by making the paper a lot less intimidating so I can easily do thumbnails.
And I jinxed it. The moment I actually start thinking about what I'm doing, I grind to a halt. Bet.
the word 'woke' really does mean whatever the sayer wants it to mean among conservatives and libertarian types, huh. Like, literally whatever they want it to mean. Came across a weirdo who thinks solar flares are 'woke science'.
WHAT DOES THAT MEAN??? WHAT IS WOKE SCIENCE??? (actually I know exactly what he was trying to say with his whole comment, his point was that unavoidable catastrophes such as solar events and shit are woke science, because 'will never happen to us so there's no point in even discussing the hypotheticals'. Only wokies discuss shit like climate crisis and stuff.'
Playing Dread Fields like 'oh yes very familiar and cute. I shit my pants.'
I love watching others play horror games, even horror lite, and when push comes to shove I can do it myself, it just takes a while to get used to, but the most benign thing: friendly NPCs suddenly running up behind you, forcing your camera to turn (looking at you Pathologic 2) gets me every time.
I can cower in a broom cubby. Extreme gore never phases me, all of us kiddiewinkles browsed rotten dot com like it was a job, and trawled through every shock site on the planet.
BUT I CAN'T HAVE PEOPLE RUNNING UP TO ME FROM BEHIND. I don't even let my husband walk behind me, I hate it when people come up to me from behind, and I am startled extremely easily, and it's all the worse if it's a non-hostile or even a friendly NPC because then I'm instantly fucking suspicious of them. Who the fuck walks up to someone from behind??
Kind of makes sense that the most recurring nightmares I've ever gotten are all either a cat getting hurt, or being pursued from behind me. Being chased, being walked up to, just the feeling that there's something always coming up at me from behind me.
OC checkpoint because I'm curious... What's the physical trait you like the most on your OC's face? A little detail you love paying attention to when you draw them. Their face just doesn't feel complete until you've added that thing. Tell me
Not my VtM pc trying to convince the Kindred that humans should not be trusted, underestimated, or be treated like cattle because Kindred can't even look at the Sun without dying. So he asks his Sire, when was the last time he saw sunrise not rendered through a TV screen. But if he wants to know when he, Samir, last saw the Sun, it was just a few days ago when his human sister who had, without notice, showed up at his doorstep in Paris, pulled the curtains away for a good morning sunshine, and it fucking hurt.
Lest Sire forgets, no one is born Kindred. Everything Kindred are is a wooden house built on the solid foundation of mortal humankind. And because mortalkind is mortal and fragile, they have it in them to be so much more clever and vicious than any vamp. You can't control them, not really. Everything within the embraced world is dependent on what the mortals do, and so it is high time to find a way of living for the Kindred that doesn't boil down to delusions of grandeur, vampkind convincing themselves that they are somehow better than mortals just because they can talk to pigeons and mind manipulate mortals. Because lest Sire forget that too, mortals also control other mortals, and unlike vamps, they don't have to rely on magic.
I did not expect Samir to become a baby revolutionary. He's an idiot! His IQ tops out at 75!
He had to get a CPAP machine to convince his sister that he isn't breathing at night because he has severe sleep apnea for fuck's sake. What part of that says 'superior race'?
That being said, he's begun to get more ruthless because our other players play their characters as complete sociopaths to the point where Samir just kind of gave up, saw a dying man and was like 'you will die in a few minutes. I break the Masquerade, I will drink your blood with or without your consent because you'll be dead anyway, but look, your guts are spread all over the tarmac, and here's a fun fact, my bite will get you stoned, you will be soooo high.'
And the dying man was like 'fuck it, fly me to the moon then'
Aand yet Samir still felt so bad about it after. He mostly sources his blood from animals dying behind a dumpster, or the butcher's shop. Definitely a character who embodies the difference between wisdom and intelligence. He was vegan in Eastern Europe long before veganism was cool or even consistently sustainable. Instinctively knows what's up, but he's convinced that 4x4=8, and that the word 'daddy' is written as 'dady.' and that the Sun is not a star, it's the Sun. But every star is technically a Sun, yet he's like no. Our sun is the sun, and stars are just silver dust, and every star is the size of a pinprick. Oh god, and that babies are born when man inserts his thingy into her thingy and stays there, immobile, for one minute. Funny thing being, he's a particularly promiscuous gay man so he thinks all the pumping and blowing is just 'gay stuff'. He also fully believes there's a näcken in his ancestral home's pond. It was a lie told to him by his grandmother when he was a boy, and he is fully intent on going back home once the war ends to try and talk to the näkk for relationship purposes.
There is no näkk there. There's only frogs, his grandmother had to tell him to his face, it was a lie, but he doesn't believe it. Though I suppose eho can blame him, VtM means as ll kinds of mythical creatures exist in this world. It's just that there is no näkk in that pond.
And finally, that teeth are made of sour milk because he once heard that milk and teeth both have calcium, and that something has to explain the sour taste in his mouth in the morning. Therefore, teeth are just solidified sour milk. He does not know what calcium is. He thinks it's a rock. You can see how he arrived at his conclusions and there are grains of truth there, but he's genuinely a bit of a dumb dumb when it comes to fax and logick. Stubborn, too.
Once again I apologise for bad typing, my mind goes a mile a minute, and I am not really a phone typer, I vastly prefer a mechanical keyboard.
Nah I still can't fuck with ACOFAF.
The big romance there, Rue being like look Hob, I know your entire life has been defined by duty, you don't have hobbies and you have but a faint idea what free will and whimsy are, but if you want to be with me, you will drop everything that has shaped you into the person I'm supposedly in love with, and come with me. Oh me? Why I'm a bit of a workaholic myself, what why do you ask?
If they both leave their positions for a new life then I can guarantee you, they'll find one another terribly dull and hollow within an hour, because everything that had defined them, given them context, an opportunity to shine, they just left behind.
Which, actually, now that I think about it, makes it a good commentary on regency romance stories.
It's all meaningful looks shared by repressed and empty people desperate to find any meaning, anywhere.
Unless Rue and Hob start a new business and align in being workaholics. It could work.
Also my upstairs neighbour keeps blasting Madonna on full volume. Which makes me both incredibly annoyed bu---
Oh now it's Linkin Park.
Edit and now it's Boney M.
Edit 2 and now we have dragostea din tei. Gotta love living in a brezhnevka
Edit 3 ok I'm over this popculture medley. I'm sad too, but unlike you, neighbour, I don't blast horrible music... Fucking Adele.
I give up.
Oh edit 4, suddenly thomas tallis with vaughan's on the theme. No joke. I think they're just scrolling videos but I do love Vaughan's interpretations.
Oh they're actually playing Vaughan's interpretations. The songs they've chosen makes me think that they've watched Master and Commander recently lol
Edit 1 they keep switching between vaughan, yo-yo ma's cello and phil glass
And damn, yo-yo ma truly is an excellent cellist. Has such a beautiful understanding of rhythm and tension in music, and I fucking hate music so this is high praise from someone who also has a good ear, but who's also too sensitive to sound. I have heard plenty of versions of the same pieces by other artists, and they all hurry. Only this fella seems to know how to keep the listener on edge, and how to make someone who hates noise to sit down and listen.
Also my upstairs neighbour keeps blasting Madonna on full volume. Which makes me both incredibly annoyed bu---
Oh now it's Linkin Park.
Edit and now it's Boney M.
Edit 2 and now we have dragostea din tei. Gotta love living in a brezhnevka
Edit 3 ok I'm over this popculture medley. I'm sad too, but unlike you, neighbour, I don't blast horrible music... Fucking Adele.
I give up.
Oh edit 4, suddenly thomas tallis with vaughan's on the theme. No joke. I think they're just scrolling videos but I do love Vaughan's interpretations.
And the 'port' part of the town's name comes from the riber port, it's not a coastal city. And because I am extremely sentimental and unoriginal, the local and enduring name for the river is simply Mother River. Just like the river that splits my real life home town in two. The Mother River has an official imperial name, named after some saint or another, depending on the century, but no one, even the imperial authority uses it outside official documents. Because it's the main tradeway, and because there are so many locals and convicts condemned to the city that trying to fuck with the Name would probably cause a riot and a halt in ferrying the mush ore upriver.
You don't fuck with the Mother. You don't swim in it either because its bed is littered with the stone remains of destroyed bridges, pollution, and many, many coroses of those who jumped in it to kill themselves, but never surfaced downriver in the springmelt. There are also fish. Very strange fish, and it's biologically a desert, because it's been polluted to shit. It doesn't run brown because of tannins and natural rot, it runs brown because of mining waste and literal shit.
I'm gonna apologise for my terrible typing because a few days ago my laptop died and I'm travelling right now, so I rely entirely on my phone and its shitty keyboard.
As for the name if the town, Port Odessina-and-Termina, there was a time when the settlement was just called Terminus, before the industry kicked off. The name was retained and feminized as per the customs of the dominant culture. All rivers are mothers or sisters, all settlements are women. She's still named Termina because historically, this place was the end of everything reasonable and sane. This is where they sent people to labour and die. And even though now the town sits on a hugely important resource, and is bustling, each year it still has to grapple with seasonal spore winds where resident talafolk die, and everybody else also dies because of the inherent nature of the mining of the blood of the place. This is not a sane place. Here, all that makes sense, ends. Here, every prominent that ended up here, came here against their will except for Tomira, who could have moved her enterprise anywhere, but she just wanted maximum profits, and where else she could get it but a town that desperately needs someone who's in the business of stopping death by mushroom.
Now. About the world and story I've been working on. In this world, there's a fungal infection that predominantly affects menfolk, doesn't affect helafolk at all, and rarely affects talayne and tarayne. Tarafoll and talafolk regularly farm the mush men for medicine and rituals and to just get high. Helafolk also get high off properly farmed mush men, who are usually treated as both gods and as consumables. Spiridon is ine of the rare ones who has had plenty of opportunity in partaking eating a mush man's growths but never did because he always viewed the practice as a bit fucked.
Now, his former lover, Cricket who dumped his ass has the infection, but Cricket is one who's not even remotely afraid of his impending demise, and is in fact very curious abot what he can do with it. Usually the mush men can do just one thing with the properties of their growths. Some mush men are medicinal, some fly you to the moon, some kill you. Cricket can do all of these things if you give him a week to think very hard and eat particular things, which makes him very vulnerable to mush farmers. Most mush men are either farmed or captured, he just gets to enjoy his freedom because he's a bit if a hero from an event that took place years ago.
Cricket basically feeds Spiridon a piece of his own growths, tells him to just fucking eat it, he's been working so hard to get the properties of it just right, and Spiridon has always been someone who's clinically depressed, even when he was young, hale and at his full health and power. And the relationship between the two is cordial still, with an underlying fondness for ine another, even though what they had, ended in an ugly way.
So Spiridon eats it, and gets incredibly stoned. Doesn't cure him but fundamentally alters his chemistry to a point where in his twilight years (he retains his race's short lifespan) he now has the means to work his way out of his chronic depression.
And he's like 'oh this is the good-good stuff', I totally get why the talayne farm you. And then: this is messed up. I have a new mission. I can't end the farming in the world but if I see one more mush farm in Port Odessina-And-Termina I will become a mass murderer.
Problem is, the entire dead monolith mush mining complex harbours a living mushroom farm, and the town's/city state's economy relies on the mines, and the mines' foreman, Mel, knows it and leverages it to kingdom come.
The thing with the mush men is strange. They are being farmed, yes, but whilst alive they are also treated as living gods, they get to have everything. Food, sex, a horse and cart lamborghini. But they are expected to be fed upon, and the particularly cruel mush farms speed up the fusing/death process to have them become so overgrown with fungus that they'll fuse to a wall, and once they do that, no need to provide them with worldly goods, because they are most potent and their qualities won't change, but also immobile, so they can't make a run for it or slowly and involuntarily become poison when they don't get hourly worship.
I said the mush nen are almost exclusively from menfolk. Everyone on the Brass is descended from the terraformer, alien menfolk, menfolk themselves hail from the Silver, and were spacefaring. They have only returned to the Brass with their last few massive civilian ships a good 20,000 years after the terraforming started (and was abandoned because very expensive), because the Silver finally depleted and became unable to support megafauna. All current menfolk in their original form are descendants of those on the boats, and the reason why they become mush men is because they haven't yet evolved to become resistant to Silver's native, mushroom based life.
Silver had mushrooms too, but different. Silver and Brass are sister worlds.
Maybe I'm the one who's stoned. Or maybe it's 4am, I woke too early, and am still a bit sad so I'm doing escapism by worldbuilding aome incredibly derivative and illogical but enjoyable shit.
Okay yeah some of the young are ruined. But just some.