September 30, 2011

You are NOT an original schemer, Mr. Reality TV Star

First of all let me apologize for the absence.  Work once again has me worried, so I'm looking around.  My writing has been focused on less public mediums.

Second, this is the nerdiest of blog posts but I felt I had to share.  I've been dragged into watching Top Shot, all of the third season on hulu.  It's a marksmen competition that hasn't been around long, but it's definitely compelling.  It's young enough that Top Shot is not focused on superb drama.  Many a good reality tv shows have fallen victim to this, included my once favorite Project Runway.  We can talk about Project Runway was ruined by moving to Lifetime later, but that's not the point of this post.

Lately some drama has worked its way on Top Shot, which considering the kind of competitiveness that this show invites it's a little surprising.  Other than sometimes leaning a little sexist, it's a very honorable sport on the show.  But then you have Jake, who decides that boasting about his abilities and underestimate everyone else.  He gets pouty when people don't call him a team player and try to vote him out.  He decides he doesn't need his team and then sleeps outside.  He teases weak players and encourages to keep them on.  And he tries to get one of his own team members to hit him so he has a strong competitor out of the game.

And that is not what annoys me most about him.

In this last episode that aired, Jake tries to sound all original, and that he's brilliant like Atilla the Hun. He's a schemer and a planner and you should be impressed with that.

I'm sorry Jake, but no.  You see I remember when Reality TV was cool, when Richard won Survivor from being a huge dick, when Omarosa was the reason you watched anything with Donald Trump in it, when Big Brother was entertaining in America and Britain.  I'm sorry, but you your tactical maneuvers have been done and played out.

So I hope that even though not a lot of people check this blog, "sneaky" game players in reality shows will SHUT UP about being original and smart and realize every other show has done it.  Ever.

September 26, 2011

2. Shopping, Looking

[If you want to reply to this entry in character/universe, feel free to do so with IC in parentheses in the beginning.]

HEA 10.27.406

I did something I never did on Earth today.

I went to the library, pick up an upload chip and started reading a book.

Believe me it’s some ridiculously trashy romance novel that takes place on Earth right when they started they had this thing they called “internet”. It’s like the stream, except with wires that went everywhere. Anyway, this chick lives in Japan and she’s chatting with this businessman in France she’s never met, and he’s actually going to a business trip in Japan but they keep on missing each other online to set up when to meet and OH STARS IT’S SUSPENSEFUL.

Why am I reading? Georgia does nothing but clean the house and watch vids every day. I think she has a couple of friend visit every once in a while, but she likes to be home. Apparently Garrison’s job involves weird hours. This week he’s been working a lot but some days he is only in his office two hours and then he comes home, and Georgia likes to be ready to pamper him. I haven’t seen much of it. When she started with a head massage technique she learned here I got creeped out. Garrison seemed to really enjoy it and neither one seemed to remember that I was in the same living room, so I rushed over to my room and closed the door and hid. I don’t need to witness foreplay. You guys are probably laughing at this right now but let me tell you Garrison seemed a little too excited about index fingers on his collarbone.

So, Dad, to answer your question, I think Georgia is happy with her hub here.

Georgia did help me find some new dresses yesterday. Went on the el to this boutique that was on 10 minutes away. We could’ve walked there but Georgia insists we’re above that. The el stops at any intersection you need to, if you know which line to take. They’re numbered, and the numbers have color coding too. A red means express, which won’t stop at every intersection, and a yellow is standard. Out of service is blue. We took a red el to the boutique. It’s called Katzy’s or something crazy like that. The outside wall looks like a bubble, with screens displaying the dresses inside on models. The shop had a lot of clothes, but it was super tiny.

There weren’t a lot of people in there so we had this crazy looking chica named Hetha with ridiculous curls in her loud blonde hair. Apparently the big thing to do here is to sculpt your hair into these complicated curls, and that’s what Hetha has done. It’s like a statue of half bubbles arranged as delicately as a mountain range. Did she sleep on them? I don’t know, the curls looked neat but they were jumbled all over the place.

So Hetha decides that my color is green and she gets me this green spotted dress with all this flotsam around my feet to trip around and frills on my shoulder and sheer stuff on my arms and spots that make me look like I’m wearing the skin of a sick leopard. As much as Hetha thought that it looked good, Georgia kindly put it to her that green was not a color I flocked to, saying there was a long family story. She may not know me well, but it’s good to know my sister has my back.

Georgia proceeded to watch Hetha closely as possible. She knows i gravitate toward simplicity, even though it seems on this planet that is not what’s in style. There is extra fabric hanging from everything and patterns that mismatch all over the place and I don’t even know! Dresses are still slinky but they’re slinky with extra garbage attached and I am so afraid I am going to trip over it. Georgia knows because that was the one thing we would both complain about in our vids to each other, and even though she is more in fashion with what’s going on in Titania she definitely doesn’t want to trip. Like our father, we’re clumsy.

Finally Hetha (with a lot of help from Georgia) finds this black and red dress with not much going on in the skirt area but it has this nice sheer overlay, covering my arms and it has some light, sparkly beading that usually isn’t my thing, but I’m realizing most stuff isn’t here in this shop. So Georgia gets it for me and Hetha the entire time is shaking her curls and going “That green would’ve been interstellar on you!”. She’s crazy.

Georgia promises me we’re never going to that boutique again.

We went to another one that had more casual clothes for when you go to the country club. Georgia says she knows women that spend all day there. They say they watch the men play racquet ball and other sports but really they’re drunks. Apparently that is why Georgia spends a lot of time at home, she’s not a drunk. Good to know.

Food out here in the restaurants doesn’t taste anywhere near as good as home. You can tell they faked it to some extent. Earth is able to get a lot of stuff fresh these days, but here on Titania I don’t think they know what a farm looks like. It’s all stuff that’s either grown in a tube or has been freeze dried across space, and that second one is what the rich people eat, so I get to have a lot of freeze dried fruit for dessert. There’s apparently a bunch of other stuff they do as well to get food to taste like something. Georgia says Garrison knows all the techniques but she wouldn’t share them with me. He is a very technical guy, apparently, learns things in every little detail. I guess that’s why he’s so uninteresting, he is too focused on the small stuff.

It was a nice sister’s day out I guess. Georgia talked a lot about herself and how Titania is, but I don’t want to bore you with it. I don’t even remember half of it. The restaurant had fake pictures of the old french rvieria circa 2105 C.E, well before even the H.E.A, as if it’s supposed to be like a window to look out on. But windows change, and this wasn’t, and all I cold think about was how much I thought my window at home was boring when it looked out to the desert with cacti and my neighbors. But there were some animals and people to look at.

Out here, no one misses that.

I didn’t think I would.

Which is why I’m reading this historical book I guess, even with less nature than Earth has now, this Japanese woman can still think under a tree in a park. I got to go across town to see one flower.

I didn’t think I would miss this stuff.

I need to stop ending these things on a bad note. Next time I’m going to do something exciting. I don’t know what, but something. Make suggestions, guys!


September 8, 2011

Mystic's Project

My boyfriend, Mystic, or "The Boyfriend" for you long time readers, is working on a project that he can do mostly on his own.  Unfortunately it's what happens when you're trying to start a business and can't even pay yourself.  He has a dream for a really smart game that is going to be much more about choice and it's affects on the story.  Bioware games do not meet the amount of choice that Mystic wants to put in his episodic scifi adventures.

Read more about it here, and please see if you can help him out.  As things come out you know I'll post about it here.  I hope with enough help you'll be watching the beginning of a great video game dev company.

September 6, 2011

1. Stopping. New.

[If you want to reply to this entry in character/universe, feel free to do so with IC in parentheses in the beginning.]

HEA 10.24.406

I guess I settled in.

Should I start from the beginning? Yeah, let’s do that.

I thought flying sucked, but that’s only two hours of cramped space with a stranger. Try 4 weeks in a chemical sleep by yourself. You’ll take no armrests next to the tall guy any day. They didn’t tell me I could have headaches for a week.

So you finally wake up for the last time, you get your bags together and you’re ready to go, and then they totally make you wait for 2 hours while they inspect and disinfect every. single. pod. All 80 of them. They put this powder around everything, so now I go out with my peacock powdered luggage, that is way too heavy for not having really walked in five weeks, and the air tastes like soap and metal. Apparently this is biodegradable and isn’t going to make me sick, but it doesn’t make up for the fact I haven’t showered in over a month. They probably lied. They probably put that powder on everyone to make sure that it doesn’t smell like ass. God, if I smelled as bad as I think I did, I can’t imagine how it smells to go out in the terminal without that powder. Oh wait, I can. I gagged a bit. Don’t imagine that.

You exit one at a time, because a good number of the people suffer from hyper-strain. I don’t know why it’s hyper. Probably something to do with physics or something stupid like that. They send you out one at a time in the hopes people don’t topple over each other, and that way it’s easy to figure out who’s going to take an hour to walk. Thank stars I could walk. I was so afraid I wouldn’t be able to, so I would be a bumbling debutante. My mom had me wear this really nice dress with sheer layers on the trip, just in case I met some rich guy right at the terminal. I think when she looked around the terminal back at Earth she realized it was nothing but laborers and young graduates. Because she thought I would get engaged right away I got this powder streaking over my black and red dress with the sheer thingy. Mom says it looks good on me, but it didn’t anymore.

Georgia barely recognized me. Last time she saw me I didn’t even have tits, and I was half a foot shorter. Now I have heels and a fancy dress, blearily stumbling with a ton of luggage that looks like monsters eyes and all of it and me are covered in this forsaken powder. And she just breaks out laughing. She’s practically tearing up with how hilarious I look. I didn’t even realize it until shuttle back because I was on auto pilot. She sat across from me in the shuttle, and I finally wised up enough to ask why she was crying. She just said “The image of it all. What a reunion.” She started laughing again.

Garrison looks like what aliens would draw if they needed a stereotypical human male to describe us. If we ever do find other life out there I’ll point them his way. He’s medium; his build, coloring, height, even the tone of his voice is just average. I have never met someone who I would never be able to pick out of a crowd. It’s almost eerie to look at him. He doesn’t talk much either. He gave a bow and said “pleasure to meet you” and that was it. I don’t think he’s said a word to me since.

Georgia and Garrison kept their distance from me. They got really dressed up. Or I think they did, maybe they dress in fancy clothes all the time. I guess purple and green are fashionable on Titatnia because that’s what Georgia was wearing, with her hair pinned close to her face and her bracelets jingling along. Garrison had a nice suit on in an olive color. It looked like a bog puked him out. How’s he supposed to know though? He’s never seen a bog. He’s never seen nature.

I already miss tress. Every walkway here has high ceilings and bright lights and light colors. It’s not sterile white like some of the other colonies I’ve seen through vids. They have pale blues and pinks and purples as you walk along. There’s no graffiti. The walls are asking for something more but they just sit there, happy to be one color.

We weren’t on the walkways for long. Georgia and Garrison led me, the powdery embarrassment, to the El station. The cars go around above most of the colony, hence, “el” or elevated train. How original. Half the time you’re on the edge and you get a view of the planet outside. It’s totally desolate out there. Golden craters and recycling depots left outside civilization. In space no one can smell your funky trash, so there is sits. A faint atmosphere exist so that you an have a yellow tinge to the sky above. Apparently they thought there was enough H20 to help terraform this place years ago. That’s what Georgia told me. Who thought water was up in that sky? Especially enough to harness for people? You can still see every star when the sun is out.

Oh yeah, looking into the sun on earth is painful, but here it’ll make you puke. I almost did. The shades they put on the El help enough to give you time to turn your head if the sun is up. It’s tiny but it will kick your head out of your eyeballs if you try to look at it. Apparently it keeps the colony warm enough without any extra man-made heaters, considering what the biodome is made out of. Biodome is a weird name too, considering a lot of this isn’t strictly circular. It’s more triangular. Biotriad, however, is not as easy to say, so biodome it is.

The ride to Georgia’s neigborhood was only 30 minutes, so I got there fast. I was still carrying my own luggage when we walked to her building and took the lift up to the 31st floor, only 3 floors from the top. Apparently that means something. They have one of the two flats with a bay window out there. When I first walked in I’m introduced to all this earth art Geogia collects. It costs a fortune out here and Garrison is happy to buy her all of it. But the living room is kind of small. It has just enough space for a couch, a love seat, and a coffee table. Not much else going on but the view, and of course the projector. they have a screen that drops down from the ceiling to project what’s on the net to watch. I guess Georgia can keep up with all her Bahn Estrada vids from years ago. Not like any of it is new.

My room is skinny. It feels like a long closet. The sheets are nice, but Georgia forced me to change in the bathroom before I got powder on anything. As soon as I did I went to the bed and slept like death. When I woke up breakfast was ready the next morning. Georgia had bots doing it for her. It was food, I guess. Still good. My eggs were a little too runny. They’re not really eggs anyway. Those you save for baking here. On Titania there’s a lot of synthetic food that looks and tastes pretty legit. The waffles were not so bad.

By the time you guys see this thing, I think I’ll been here a week. Don’t matter, I’ll definitely keep you updated. Let me know how life is back on Earth. Especially the weather. I’m thinking I’m going to miss seeing different weather out my window. It helped paint the day. Each one unique. Like a cloud or a snowflake.

Didn’t mean to get into preschool territory there. Anyway, when something exciting happens I’ll let you know. Let’s see if I can find me a rich husband, preferably one who knows how to dance.


September 5, 2011

My New Sabbat Character

The last LARP game I wasn't able to go because I had twisted my ankle at work, driving to and from LARP wasn't going to be easy with two crutches.  I realized I missed my peeps too much so I decided to try Sabbat, knowing that I would probably get pulled into going every game and now gaming 3 weekends out of the month.  Is that such a bad thing? No. 

So up to the night before I wasn't sure what to make for a character.  Luckily a friend of mine told me a general idea of Sabbat.  It's not related to my Vampire: The Requiem character or world at all.  That's new World of Darkness, with different rules and a different setting.  New World of Darkness doesn't have the presence of Sabbat, just the Camarilla with smaller sects of off groups that go against the, like the Brood and Seven.  Old World of Darkness had the Camirilla, a group of Vampires who were extremely hierarchical by age and were about being hidden from mortal society by almost hiding in it, and the Sabbat, who were about freedom and earning your status and being proud of the fact that you are Vampire and not hiding it.  You still couldn't reveal to mortals you were a vampire and make it obvious, but killing a mortal when drinking or eating them is not a bad idea.  Ripping people's faces off with your brute vampire force is cool if you know the fucker is going to die and not tell anyone.   Have some fun, just don't be stupid.

Now with this in mind I decided that for once I wanted to play a character who could actually kill somebody.  I love Ellen, she's a brilliant quiet power player who kind of fell into being Seneschal of Chicago (and gladly), but she is not a fighter and she rarely uses any of her powers.  With that in mind I made a character that wouldn't mind getting her hands dirty.  Also, my friend asked me "what kind of monster do you want to be?" And my reply was "motherly".  With that, and mostly on the car ride over to game, I figured out the story of Rose, my Sabbat vampire.

Rose had always lived in the woods, near a river and a bog, always lived off the land.  Her parents were originally from city life and decided to rough it in the woods.  Rose was an only child, and her family was extremely isolated in there cabin.  They were self reliant and knew only a few neighbors.  They were pretty happy with only the three of them. 

Rose had seen her father hit her mother sometimes, but only after her mother had been hysterical.  Rose never thought much of it, so when she finally married Peter from three houses down, she tried her best to be a team with him.  At nineteen she was happily married with child, and still able to talk to her family.  Peter didn't start hitting her until after the boys were born, beautiful identical twins with blond hair and brown eyes.  Rose named them Andrew and Anthony.  She loved them.  Peter was jealous of the attention, something Rose never really thought about until she was already embraced.

Any time Peter felt that the boys were coming before him, or that Rose wasn't listening or moving fast enough, she would get some sort of hit.  Possibly to the face, but usually on her torso.  When the boys were just one her mother asked about a bruise on her arm.  Rose didn't tell, but that was when Peter insisted she didn't see her parents anymore.  Letters would have to suffice.

Rose was alone with the boys a lot, gathering food and water while they were nearby.  She didn't have the internet or even a telephone, nor did she have any news outlet.  She hadn't been to the town center since she married Peter, with him pleading that he could not live with her that far away.  Rose didn't know any better, and her only comparison was now shut away from her.

When Anthony and Andrew were four, they were little explorers.  They would touch anything that Rose didn't already say don't touch four times.  So it wasn't any surprised that Anthony found an old thing of Peter's to play with.  Rose never remembers exactly what it was, but it was something Peter had treasured since he was a child.  Rose can only imagine the rage that Peter had after coming back from butchering a chicken to see Anthony had broken one of his favorite things, in pieces on the floor.

Rose heard the screams and rushed inside to see Peter had swiftly chopped Anthony to pieces in the kitchen, his butcher knife spraying the blood along the walls.  She feared to make a sound, just rushed over to Andrew, covered his eyes and looked away.  When Peter was done, he took the pieces of their son out and burned them.  Rose tried to wash the walls, but she was thinking.  Would Andrew ever survive this life?  When would be the next time Peter would snap?  Rose had no problem with dying by Peter's hand, but she only wanted the boys to go in her arms if they had too.

The next morning Rose took Andrew out to the bog.  She told them that they were going to take a nap under the water, something no one had tried before.  They laid in and Rose kept him under.  His nature caused him to struggle, but Rose held him tight and close under her until he stopped, whispering "Trust me". She stood there for hours, grieving, crying.  When her eyes were dry enough and her nose stopped running, she went back to the house and cooked dinner.  She stayed away from Peter, who made a stand for his butcher's knife.

That night noises came from outside.  Peter always slept like a rock, but Rose shot up and got a lantern to look out.  She walked around, first to the chicken coop, then south of it into the forest.  She saw shadows moving, trying to follow them.  Who knew they were here?  Not even the mail man came by more than once a week, who would stop by here?  And then suddenly she was knocked back into a tree.  The lantern went out.  She felt the blood leaving her, a pain in her neck, a hand holding her on her waist.  She passed out.

She awoke abandoned in the middle of the night, a pain coming over her entire body.  She knew something was different, something was wrong.  She felt hungry, but nothing she knew would satisfy her.  She went back to the house, and she saw Peter, sleeping.  Instinct that had never been there before kicked in.  She jumped on his back and chomped on his shoulder.  She held on as he tried to get up.  She was stronger than before, the blood was helping.  He struggled, she sipped.  It wasn't a lot, but she didn't want much from him.  She jumped back and ran out the house.  Peter yelled out to her, threatening to get the knife.  She knew he couldn't kill her though.

Right before sunrise she made a shelter, but as the sky lightened it was now obvious what she had become.  She dug swiftly into the earth and made a canopy of leaves and dead branches.  It worked.  The next night she decided to head west.  Her mother always hinted the west was where people seek freedom.   Rose didn't know if she needed freedom, but she knew she had it. 

Rose would walk or run for miles, trying to stay near wooded areas and follow highways.  She would run when she knew no one could see.  When she  was starved nearby animals would be ripped apart and sucked dry.  Hunting them kept her focused.  She got to route 66, and stayed outside a rest station, where she heard somebody arguing.  He was saying something about being a Cainite, being more than human, needing to protect that.  And that's when Rose came up to him, explained her story, explained her urges, and hoped he understood.  He did

He was the leader of a pack, a ductess they called him.  They were The Defensive Line, fighting against anything that threatened the Sabbat.  What was the Sabbat?  Vampires who were proud.  So we are vampires?  Yes, didn't your sire tell you?  What is a sire?  The vampire who made you this way.

The pack taught her everything she needed to know.  What to avoid, how to hide, and even what her lineage was--Lasombra.  Everyone seemed confused that she was left to fend for herself and that she survived as well as she did, but they were happy to help.  And she was happy to help them when they said they would help with the siege of Chicago.

Rose had never been in an urban area before but she fought well.  Her newfound comrades, however, were cornered in the fight and all perished.  Afraid of what was to become of her, once again Rose fled, finding the nearest wooded area and sleeping there.  She got out to feed once in a while, hunting animals, keeping to herself.  Was there more sabbat?

After a year she went out to hunt only to careless miss a human that had been looking around the area late at night.  She didn't need him to know she was there, so she feed on him.  It was much more satisfying sucking his life out of him than it was a bird or a coyote.  But the woods didn't have enough people. She decided to find the Sabbat again, maybe find some other pack.  Did they still need fighters?  What if all of the Sabbat perished?  What if she could've stopped that.

One old contact was still around, a Revenant named Zoey.  And with her help Rose came back to find that the Sabbat was still around, but fighting petty fights amongst each other over hats and still quibbles.  But maybe she can still help.  There are some that need some guidance, some that need some teaching.  Maybe she can help.  It still seems to be better than being alone in the woods forever.

September 3, 2011

There isn't really a good reason for this.

Mystic found this website, and when he sent me the link he goes "I hope this is a joke".  It's advertising Slavery the Game.  I'm not going to post the video they put up there, I'm already supporting the site too much by linking it.

It's advertising Slavery the Game, where you can buy, manage and exploit slaves, during the time of European colonial expansion.  There's no real game footage (at least nothing convincing) and there's no company that's supporting it other than Red Javelin, that Mystic discovered was an advertising agency.

So now people are going to assume that gamers are sick twisted individuals because some company is "producing" this and instead of focusing on the product or idea Red Javelin was hired to sell, the focus is going to be how sick gamers are.  Great.

I might be wrong and they won't focus on that, but when was the last time they let gamer culture over something that gamers have no hand in? 

I hope I'm proven wrong.