Sunday, January 25, 2015

Free Fall

I was once given the opportunity to taste a life I had never known before, experience a place and routine so foreign to my own as to be unrecognizable. And it was beautiful. I chased through damp fields in the full moon, prowled old graveyards deep at night, drank with good friends around a roaring campfire, and confessed deep and longing secrets on winding dusty roads.

And then it was gone. As quickly as it came.

I returned to my normal routine in a sudden daze of normality. The week quickly faded into the long and empty past that stretches out over the years behind you. I look back at it now, and I know that I miss it dearly: what it was, what it could have been, what it might still be. But I also know that it's gone.

You take too many turns, and eventually you're somewhere else. Another time, another place, and where you came from, you simply just can't get back to. It's gone.

I just recently took a blind leap off the side of a mountain. I closed my eyes, spread my wings, and with a great confident smile, hurled myself over the edge backwards. I didn't care too much where I landed, I just hoped it would somehow be better. Is it? I don't know. I hope I'm still just in free fall.

In free fall, everything is a blur. It all goes whistling past, a dense flood of information, people, places, things, emotions. I wish I could say it's a pleasant sensation, but everything is so different, it's impossible to latch on to anything and slow the descent. Instead of gracefully slowing, or searching for a target, I feel as though I'm simply tumbling about, pointing a different direction at any given moment in time. I've got all the right equipment to land, but it definitely isn't going to be a graceful landing, and I simply can't tell what it looks like at my destination.

I wish I could say it'll be better, but it's so easy to remember where I just came from, that remarkably mundane life I just left from, and remember that it wasn't all that mundane after all. Those crowded nights exploring the bright city streets, beautiful days spent climbing mountains, resting in the tangled limbs of a lover while drops fall from the heavens, empty weeks spent casually creating things in the ambient company of someone that understands, the crowded halls where everyone knows you'll help them, even though you've never met them. So many things.

*sigh*

Free Fall.

I can't possibly know where I'll land yet, all I can hope is the wind doesn't tear me apart before I get there.

Monday, August 4, 2014

Still

A soft patter beats against the glass, relentless and deafening. It doesn't end, it doesn't stop, it just is, a blurring of the cold surface, waving the beyond back and forth in its incessant refraction.


The air is still inside, empty and dark. The apartment feels vacant, the absence of lighting inviting terrors into the deep shadows in the far corners. Nothing is there, just the gentle hum of a computer, and the nebulous whisper of the ventilation system.

The fingerprints on the glass are little mazes, sharper and more defined than the smudged landscape outside. Their little walls enchant and dance, tearing your gaze down its minute corridors. The fog of your breath hides it for a moment, before it fades back into view.

The surface is steel against your forehead, the thin layer of grease on your skin slides across the window as you press up against it. A chill runs through your body as you slowly absorb the temperature of the cool outside.

It rains.

It’s still raining.

Little streams run rampant through the bare dirt, carving and carrying away bright sediment. It flows down the hill, and onto the road next to it, pooling there, swallowing the dark pavement in a flood of orange. The handlebars of a rusty bike poke up from the depths, and glimmer in the overcast light.

You pull your head back from the window, and it takes a minute for your eyes to adjust back to the darkness. Another day at home, another day inside.

It never stops raining.

It’s still there...

Thursday, February 13, 2014

Winter

It's 3:30 AM, and I need to write. It's cold out, a little shiver here and there does a good bit of something to you. My feet are chilly, but it's a reminder that they're still around, huddled underneath my computer desk. Warm drinks are like million dollar checks, and the burning sensation they tear down your throat is nothing less than therapeutic.

I love it all, I could drown myself in these sensations, these deliciously cold and moody days. So incredibly satisfying to prance around in, while somehow still evoking the darkest emotions from within. My easily amused exterior somehow contains vast reserves of darkness far below the surface, simmering and seething, and days like these, while they tease my senses and tickle my nostalgia, somehow bring those deeper feelings closer to the surface.

Is it simple the quality of it? The texture, the rolling waves of it? I can't tell what it is, merely a sensation. Perhaps it is simply too much to give a single name. If I could sort them out, and name them by the hundreds, perhaps it wouldn't be so dark after all. Or maybe there is no beginning nor end to them, and naming them would just be disguising them further. I have not the talent to tell.

It's hard to work some days. All I can think about is a particular fiery torch of emotions, another Aribeth. A brief, brilliant, blinding flash of emotions that simply obscures everything else, and leave a large spot in your vision. You can try to blink it away, but yet still see the outline of it with your eyes closed. A little bit of daring goes a long ways, but it's a difficult thing to find with a schedule packed from wall to wall, the less important bits dribbling out the sides.

If I could ride a train through the dark snowy forests, I would. Sit upon the thunderous creature, riding down the shining tracks that wind through the miles and miles of ...everything. The shaking, pounding sensation of the massive engines beating their wheels forward is intoxicating. The only thing I could compare it to is the heavy beat of bass belting out from a hundred speakers. It's not Love, but it'd do, in a pinch.

I just need more. Or less. A little more less. I wish I knew.

Sunday, January 12, 2014

Brain dump: Tangled

I've been working on developing a universe that plays well with the real world, something I can combine easily with my photography or whatever. While exploring these ideas, I discovered it can also do a lot of great stuff with characters and interaction, which is also something I've been itching to focus on! Anyhow, here's just a brain dump of ideas and framework for it.

Tangled

In the tangled universe, everything is connected, and everything revolves around connections. People are connected to other people via relationships, connected to gravity through the laws of physics, connected to our world by presence, etc. Every connection can be cut, and when that connection is cut, influence ceases to flow through them.

The fewer common tethers you have with another person, the less you are able to observe, or interact with that person. If enough connections are cut, they simply fade away from the world they used to be bound to. This gives a cost/benefit to cutting too many connects, should you have the ability to do so. Someone who separates himself from too many things will no longer be able to influence the things he hoped to gain an advantage over. It can also be a cruel, cruel punishment for your enemies.

There are a few ways to separate connections, the first and most obvious is simply by interacting in the correct fashion, destroying an object, killing a friendship, that connection vanishes from the world. Weavers are another possibility, the unfathomable creatures that wander the web of the universe, eating connections at random. Once in a while, weavers can be influenced, captured, controlled, but such a task is tricky, risky, and prone to failure or disaster. Surgeons are an uncommon race, massacred and scattered from their homeworld due to their unique ability to manipulate connections. Skilled Surgeons are difficult to find, and highly prized. The ceiling on their powers is often un-discernible.

Here are a few ideas for people or things that might exist in this world:

Weavers are creatures that feed on the threads of connection, they wander through the universe, and eat the tastiest, most unusual morsels that they find. Not many things can sever a connection, which makes this creature a prized ally, and a feared opponent. Their motivations are rarely categorized as good or evil, if they can even be called motivations at all.

Wanderers are not connected to any specific worlds, they simply explore. Here one day, gone the next. Given their tenuous connection to the world, normal people can rarely see them. Only those that are also somewhat disconnected will notice them, though Wanderers often don't stand out all that much. A wanderer that frequents a world may grow a tenuous connection to it, allowing him to interact with a wider number of its inhabitants.

Knots are a social construct, primarily. The longer a connection lasts, the stronger it becomes, and the longer it remains in the presence of another connection, the more likely it is to get tangled or knotted. Knots make connections harder to cut or even step away from, and often convey extra information or amplify the strength of those connections.

Psychopaths have their connections to empathy or emotion cut. These connections are often found to be delicious, and are among the most common threads for Weavers to snack on for general sustenance. Cut connections rarely go one at a time however, so many psychopaths will also have other connections cut, making them often quite dangerous people indeed.

Teleporters are not simply able to move from one location to another, they actually ignore the concept of distance entirely. There is no need to walk across a room to pick something up, they can simply put it in their hand, regardless of distance. This is a very rare and powerful disconnect, as separating someone from the concept of distance but not separating them also from the concept of location is extremely difficult, and not something that happens by accident.

Surgeons are people that are skilled in the separation of threads. Those wishing to gain advantageous disconnects will often come to them to undergo risky operations. While no separations are impossible, many are implausible, such as the Teleporters. Only the most legendary of Surgeons could even hope to accomplish such a task.

Surgeons:

The Surgeons were discovered by Wanderers early on in their cultural development. Any later, and the Surgeons would have been a completely unstoppable force. As it was, many Surgeons had attained truly godlike states. After a long and complicated war of control, all those surgeons that could not be harnessed were killed, or cut away from the universe. Much of their surgical knowledge was lost, and the few remaining Surgeons fled throughout the web of the universe, hiding themselves as best they could.

Surgeons still crop up on occasions, sometimes as linchpins of remote locations, sometimes as the tools of ambitious puppeteers, sometimes as obscure Surgeons for hire, or just simply hiding out and avoiding unwanted attention. The life of a Surgeon is a difficult one at best.

Wednesday, January 1, 2014

Review of 2013

2013 went by in a flash. Not all years do that for me, but this one certainly did. Usually, that's an indication that memorable things didn't happen, or I fell too deep into a routine, or something of that nature; but I don't think it was necessarily anything that bad. It was all just laying the groundwork of things to come later.

A year is a very long time, and I always have trouble remembering things over such a length period. Fortunately, there's an archaeological record I can dig through: Facebook! It might not have everything, but I'm enough of an addict to get a pretty good picture, or at least ring some bells.

The first thing that stood out to me was the tail end of my photography project! 2012 was the year my photography really took off, and I did my 1 pic a day project. I guess it kinda culminated with one of my photos ending up in the CPCC student gallery. It was a testament to the power of a well implemented and executed new year's resolution. It seems they can do some good after all. I barely touched my camera this year, and it shows in the few pictures I have actually taken. I'd like to fix that, but it's not on my priority list.

Perhaps more notably, it's now been a full year since I quit teaching! After 5 years at CPCC, I really needed a change, and so I left. I don't really miss it. I liked being around the people everyday, coworkers and students, and giving presentations. I can still do that elsewhere too, I just need to learn how to present on less technical stuff, it has a remarkably limited audience. I don't know if it's changed much though, I'm still around all the same people, working with the same students, just in a different context. I guess I was hoping to be out of here by now.

First year at the GDC (and ECGC) as a volunteer as well! And here's to hoping it'll happen again. I met a lot of good people there, and I hope that going back again will help solidify, or truly establish those relationships. I also hope to get a real in-person glimpse into the indie community there, I never really saw it the way I have since witnessing it on Twitter.

I picked up a job working on Breach & Clear not too far into the year. It was a fun job, and it gave me some important insight about larger projects. I could write forever about the things I learned there, but that's for another time. I also left them towards the end of the year as well, and I'm happy about that too. I needed the time back to really focus on making other things a reality.

SIGGRAPH was also pretty great! First time in LA. It was a great reminder that volunteering at a conference is far more interesting than simply attending one. It was also a good reminder that I really want to talk at an event like SIGGRAPH or GDC. I'll make sure that's on my list for this year. More talks at conferences. But it was nice to dive back into some hardcore computer graphics again, re-exploring my roots.

In 2013, I also participated in at least 4 or 5 game jams? Those are keepers. The 10 Second Sextants, Sharkagachi, One Way Trip to Calida, Snipe Arena, and Mineshaft. This year, it's on my list to actually submit 'em, market them, and participate in the community instead of just watching.

And Twitter! I picked up tweeting, and I really wish I had done so sooner. It provides me with the community that I can't find here in Charlotte. Real game developers, doing game developer-ey things. I finally am starting to feel in the loop here. I need to keep creating stuff on there.

Ferr2D Terrain was a massive success, probably one that I've really undervalued thus far, but it truly is a big deal! It's a nice reminder that I really could live without a formal job, if I didn't have to support anything. I have so many ideas for it in the future, and a lot of other extension ideas that could also work quite well. I just need to find the time for all of 'em. An interesting note here, the core of Ferr2D Terrain only took a few days, while overall development for it took about a month. That's pretty darned fast!

But probably the most important thing from this year for me has been Simbryo. It really kicked into high gear in November. We now have 26 games out on both Windows 8 and Windows 8 Phone (52 total =D) which is completely and absurdly awesome! We've still got a ways to go on our Centurion project, but I think we should be able to make it, and when we do... it'll be amazing! Of course, that'll all be over just by the first half of the year, so I really have no idea what to expect for the second half. Hopefully a big project or two of our own =D

So, yeah, a lot of groundwork. I expect good things in 2014, much better things. And even though my 2013 resolution completely flopped, (1 'project' a month) I don't think I really needed it much. My resolution for this year though, is to write something at least once a week. I think that helps tie in to a lot of my community building, presentation, and creativity goals that I'd like to hit. It's also not that hard =D (read, very realistic). So, here's to a good 2014!

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

Tumble

a kiss, stolen in the hallway, away from casual eyes
it lingers in my memories
wet lips, a thin frame, pressed close against the wall

the world still spins, thinking about it
it was never quite real
or perhaps it was, but only for the briefest instant

i had dreamt of this moment, wishing for it to be real
and it was
it was more real than I could have hoped

and in that soft embrace, i was changed
i tumbled freely
i didn't care which way was up, only forward

but when our lips parted, and my eyes opened
all that was left was sand
she went away, and left me on the cold ocean shore

we parted ways that day, each in our own directions
i wish i had known

Sunday, April 10, 2011

Time Killer

The portal shimmered, and Chron stepped through. The cool, tingling sensation washed over him, as though he had immersed himself in a pool of electrified water. He couldn't help but shiver at the evil magics that coursed around him, throwing him into the future, into a world destroyed by a powerful madman.

He fell a short distance onto a marble floor, the temperature difference caught him by surprise. He landed awkwardly, but righted himself quickly, assessing his surroundings, fearful of discovery.

He was in the hall outside of the throne room, a dark and shattered shadow of the halls he walked in his own time. He hurried nervously to the throne room door, hoping he had enough time. His hand, clenched tightly around a poisoned dagger trembled... he might never even make it back.

After a brief moment to calm himself, he shoved the double wooden doors wide open, and strode down the faded golden carpet. The room became suddenly quiet, and a hundred faces hooded in grey robes turned to face him. Their passionless expressions opened in a pantomime of suprise and quiet discussion. He sprinted straight towards the regal figure at the end of the room, shoving a startled ambassador out of his way.

The knife flew from his hand, arcing swiftly through the air. The throw drifted to the side, but still found its mark, releasing deadly poisons into the king's veins.

As guards rushed towards him, the king began to laugh, a sad laugh tinged with shades of irony.

"I knew this day, one day would come. I was a fool to think I might avoid it." He walked towards Chron, now pinned to the ground by a pair of armored pawns. "Do you not recognize me?"

Chron gasped as the king's familiar features suddenly hit home. The scar, there, above the eyebrow... The world spun, colors blending together like a water painting. The blurred king bent over and slumped to the floor. The world vanished, and Time found himself lying on the floor of his own room once again.

He had just killed himself.