I mentioned in my last post how I told my father to GTFO my life. I received a call a couple of days ago that he had gotten himself arrested somewhere in Missouri for DUI and driving without a license. The Missouri Police Force, in an attempt to prove that they are totally not a bunch of corrupt racists who will murder a child just for kicks, not only released him the next day, but gave him his car back and let him drive. He doesn’t have a license and showed that he was completely unsafe behind the wheel, but our good old Boys in Blue didn’t care. They have real criminals to deal with: all those danged “uppity” Blacks who are tired of getting murdered and discriminated against for some reason!
Fuck the Police. Also my family, but also the police.
Once again, I’ve fallen into that pattern of nothing interesting happening to me lately. Mostly just doing some coding, making internet jokes, dealing with my grandmother passing away and the day after giving my father a large sum of money and telling him to get the hell out of my life for good, after scaring him by (accidentally, I admit) breaking part of my car’s rear-view mirror with one punch (this was a bad idea, in retrospect-at least it’s still usable) and screaming every possible profanity at him. That last story is nowhere near as interesting as I cryptically hinted at, I’m afraid. So here’s a random screenshot I found on my hard drive.
I wanted to have my game out by the 16th, coinciding with the 20th anniversary of King’s Field. Well, turns out only giving myself a few weeks to come up with a game of this magnitude is pretty ridiculous and impossible. I’m still finishing up levels, writing dialogue, bug testing, and putting all the bells and whistles on it. Hell, it still doesn’t even have a real name yet! I mean, yeah, I could rush the whole process and release shit, but I wouldn’t do that. Intentionally.
Another reason: there exists, in medieval fantasy, a major cliche of dwarves and elves as stand-ins for black and gay characters. It wasn’t really my intention, but I may have ended up doing exactly that with a dwarven character. He was falsely accused of murder by the corrupt authority figure, and they try to kill him, and so on. I have to rewrite that. I don’t want to make something trite and cliche like that. I could never call myself a creative writer again after that!
So, with that all being said, I won’t be able to make my previous deadline. Which sucks, because I pride myself on living up to my word, and I won’t be able to do that this time. But I assure you, this isn’t an indefinite delay; I’m not just going to dick around online, not doing any work. I will get this done.
In light of the new Battlefield, a game glorifying excessive force by the police, getting released in light of all the real-life excessive force done by police, I thought I would come up with a list of games that could also tastelessly cash-in on recent events.
I’ve been posting a couple of screencaps on Tumblr, but I think now is as good a time as any to announce that I’m working on a new game. Like Moonlit Corpse, I’ll be using the Sword of Moonlight engine for this one, as well.
Now, don’t take this to mean that I’m abandoning Moonlit Corpse or leaving the team or anything. I’m still involved with that project, and still working on its design simultaneously. I just wanted to do something on my own. Two reasons for this:
I still have a ways to go before then, though; the game doesn’t even have a name yet. It does, however, have two completed levels (of five), and its plot and mechanics well hammered out and ready to be implemented.
Another morning, another stupid “Team Huddle.” My manager is trying her best to rally a group of uncaring sales employees. We don’t give a fuck, she shouldn’t either. I’m too busy looking out of the corner of my eye, at the messy-haired boy who keeps stealing glances at me. The morning after with a co-worker is always awkward. It will probably get even more awkward come lunch time, when we’ll be in the backseat of my car, touching and fondling each others’ dicks. But whatever, this job sucks and anything that can make it worthwhile, I’ll take. Even sleeping with a clingy twenty-two year old with bad taste in music.
Sure enough, I clock out for lunch, and there he is, tapping me on the shoulder, ready to head out. I hate that. I keep telling him, “don’t tap me on the shoulder,” but it falls on deaf ears. What doesn’t fall on deaf ears, thankfully, is my instructions on where else to touch me, and hard or soft to do so. I feel like shit afterwards, fucking this guy, but not really having a whole lot of respect for him. I try to justify myself: “He’s bad at his job!” “He doesn’t listen! I mean, fuck, he keeps tapping you on the shoulder!” “It’s not a relationship, it’s just a fling!” But it’s all bullshit. I’m just an asshole about this whole thing. This must be how misogynist straight guys feel about women. Damn.
We finish in each others hands. I quietly clean up the mess, feeling a little guilty. I can’t even look at him. I should really try to be a better lover. Or maybe find a real boyfriend.
In the meantime, I clock back in to work. Taking a few minutes to straighten my hair, I smile for what seems like the first time in forever. As I’m getting back to work, The Boy shows up. He leans over and whispers in my ear, “my place, tonight?” Without even thinking, I nod.
I have a problem with trust. I’ve been burned too many times by the people around me. My “Loved Ones.” You’re always there for them in their time of need, putting your entire life on hold to fix theirs. Then, when it comes time for you to fall, suddenly, nobody is around to pick you up. As a result, I tend to be detached from other people. Don’t want to get hurt again, you know?. Luckily, this guy doesn’t seem to notice. Yet. But until then, I need to get back to work.
After work, I did go to his place. Before I can even step foot inside, he’s already got his hand firmly grasped at my groin, and his tongue in my mouth. He’s raring to go right now, and I don’t intend to stop him. Maybe when we’re done, I’ll ask if he wants to go see a movie?
I woke up this morning in a cold sweat: I had a really great idea for Sword of Moonlight, and I had to see if it could be implemented. I wanted to see if it were possible to have an enemy that constantly pursued you. Always on your tail, not hindered by obstacles like doors or walls, and can’t be killed through conventional means. Something that, no matter how powerful you became, would still keep you on edge.
What makes this so difficult is that this is how Sword of Moonlight handles artificial intelligence:
And, sadly, the enemy I attempted to make fell victim to the same thing. At best, it would follow you for a little bit, before randomly turning around or swinging its sword at the air. Also, enemies move very slow, and outrunning them takes no effort at all.
The best workaround I can think of would be to have this enemy type in a much smaller, confined area, as well as slowing down the rest of the game so that it can catch up. I’m not making the game slower for one enemy. That’s just asinine.
I got into a fight today. Like, an actual fist fight. I haven’t been in one of those in at least ten years, and yet there I was, trading blows with someone, doing my damnedest to leave him in a pile on the floor. It worked. Somehow.
It was so spontaneous: some drunken asshole sees me, shouts homophobic shit my way, shoves me a few times, making sure to ask “whaddya gonna do about it, fag?” in between each shove. Normally, in situations like these, I either get the shit knocked out of me by a group of angry, tiny dicked losers, or I manage to run away. This time, I just hauled off and drove my fist square into his ugly face, a sickening sound of nose cartilage snapping under my knuckles serving as an exclamation point.
I’ve never been a violent person. Never been very tough. Always gone out of my way to avoid conflict, to a point of maybe compromising a little too much in an argument, just to end it quicker. The concept of solving your problems with your fists always seemed really stupid.
But I really, really fucking loved hurting this guy. I’ll never admit that out loud, but I did. It felt so damn good to drive an elbow into an eye socket. It felt good to force my knee into his gut. It felt good to kick him in the balls (I never said that I fought fair). It felt good to get a couple of good stomps to his face in, before getting pulled away by a group of strangers. Standing up to hatred for once was one of the best feelings I’ve ever had, even though I feel sick thinking about it now. All that blood, all that anger; I felt like a complete monster once I finally calmed down. I can’t believe I let myself get dragged down to his level! But I’m also so very thankful for the opportunity. It’s sick. I’m sick. I needed to go home and lie down.
I know I shouldn’t feel so bad about this. I had every right to kick his ass. Hell, we all dream of standing up to some bigoted fuck and making him feel as defenseless and scared as he’s made so many of us, to just let all of that anger out at once. And yet here I am, feeling like shit about it. It’s so fucking stupid. But, I suppose that’s what happens when you solve your problems with your fists.
I’m curled up in a fetal position in the corner of my living room. It’s past midnight. All of my lights are off, save for my television, which is playing some children’s cartoon. It has a talking dog. I think the dog is yelling at me. “You stupid motherfucker! This is why nobody likes you!” They let this on a kid’s show?
There’s a knocked over bottle of pills on the floor. I don’t know many I took, but it was enough to hurt. My body doesn’t want to move. I’m seeing colors that I can’t describe. Are they even real? That fucking dog is at it again. “Aw fuck! Jesus Christ, I’m so sorry! Goddammit!” The dog is breaking down into tears. I feel bad for him.
I’m getting really tired. I want to go to sleep, but the cartoon dog jumps out of the tv and starts grabbing me. “I don’t want to fucking lose you! Please, stay awake!” I try my best not to, but I get sick all over him. I want to apologize, but the words don’t come out, so I just hope that my stare can get my point across. It doesn’t.
The dog says nothing now. Just holds me close and sobs, stopping only to spit out, “Goddammit,” at himself. I want to comfort him, as he’s doing for me. But I can’t. All I can do is close my eyes.
I found my copy of Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater 2 today, so I fired up the park creator and made a level.
I couldn’t quite figure out how to export the save file using a memory card manager, so I just threw the virtual memory card into a zip folder and I’ll hope for the best. It will work on any Playstation emulator. And by any, I mean ePSXe and PSXfin (although you shouldn’t use PSXfin, since it has an error where it will freeze if you try to save in THPS2). Just unzip it, put it in your “memcards” folder, select it in your emulator’s memory card tab and you should be golden. If it doesn’t, feel free to scream at me.
Brag about your high scores in the comments.