#shoddy art but i hope to keep improving

[k7l4d4]

Midnight Striga: Fairy Tail/Owl House Cross Fic Episode 3 Part 3

And once again, I arrive with another piece of Midnight Striga!! Everybody Clap Your Hands!!!

With a sigh, Amity plopped herself down in her seat, her Abomination prepped and ready for deployment next to her. Panning her gaze across the classroom, her eyes zeroed in on an empty desk; Willow’s desk. ‘She probably choked and designed to take a zero.’ Amity mused, carefully ignoring the sinking feeling that always tugged at her chest whenever she was around, or thought of, Willow. A Blight had no use for thinking of ‘what if’s, when they could instead focus on their present and their future.

Any further musings were cut off as Willow hurriedly rushed into the room, her Abomination pot trudging along behind her. Amity almost snorted. Was she really going to present that shoddy thing? It was her funeral. Still, Amity was a bit perplexed at the sight of Willow’s beaming grin.

“Alright, are you all prepared for today’s inspection?” Their instructor announced imperiously, not even bothering to walk as his Abomination served as his vehicle; Amity had little respect for the man, but she gave him the diligence his position was due, both for how it impacted her future, and her observations of his skills at the art of Abominations himself. As their teacher scanned the displayed works, he called out criticisms at every turn, “Too many eyes, too many toes, toes in the WRONG places, bah! The only real Abominations in this classroom are you all!” His disdainful shout caused many of the students to wilt in their seats, all but Amity of course and, to her surprise, Willow, who leaned forward eagerly.

The teacher huffed, before giving a familiar ultimatum. “If the next Abomination I see disappoints me, it will mean extra homework for everyone, for a MONTH!”

Amity internally rolled her eyes, tuning out the myriad groans of her classmates. Still, there was no reason for them to suffer because of how strict their teacher was. With a wave, Amity rose to her feet. “Allow me to present next, professor!” With a graceful twirl, her Abomination, utterly without flaw or defect, rose gracefully from its confines.

He chuckled. “Oh no, Miss Blight, you know I always save the best for last!” While the stroke to her ego wasn’t unwelcome, it meant she would most likely have to endure him singling out someone as an example, just to make a point. How petty. “How about… Miss Park.” Of course. Amity leaned forward, morbidly invested in what she was certain was going to be a trainwreck.

Willow carefully hid at the despairing calls and groans of her classmates. They’d all get to finally see what she could really do, and she couldn’t wait for their reactions! “It would be my pleasure sir!” She said with a sunny grin, throwing all but the teacher, who cocked an eyebrow, and Amity, who was certain it was a bluff, for a loop. How could she be so calm?

“Okay, if you’re gonna do this, you’ve gotta keep that image of a plant in mind.”

“I don’t know, will this really work?”

In, and out. Willow slowly drew a circle, intently focusing on the image held within her heart. The class murmured around her as long, ropy vines of Abomination goop coiled out of her pot.

“I mean, you know how plants grow, right?”

“Of course I do! I just don’t get how that’ll help.”

“Well, you know about climbing plants, I assume.”

“Plants that scale a surface as they grow long vines across it? Yeah, but what does that have- Oh!”

“Now you’re getting it.”

Willow bit her lip, watching as the ropes slowly built upon themselves, clinging to one another, a torso slowly being sculpted from the mass of ooze before her. As the vines clung to each other and multiplied, the image of arms and legs took shape, the overall image having a solid, sculpted quality that even some of the finest Abominations lacked. As the tendrils wove tighter, the definition grew, to the point where it almost looked as if a skinless hulk of well-honed muscle stood before them. If they hadn’t seen it being built, everyone present could’ve sworn it had been carved from stone, it was so detailed. The teacher stood atop his Abomination, mouth agape, almost pitching forward as his eyes hungrily rove across the magnificent specimen before him. To think, Willow had the skill to create something so glorious!

As the classroom burst into roaring cheers at her display, Willow allowed a pleased grin to stretch across her face. Everyone celebrated; everyone, that is, except Amity. She couldn’t believe it. Moreover, she WOULDN’T believe it. There was no possible way Willow could’ve salvaged that… mess from before in time, much less make something like this in comparison to her previous efforts. Amity’s nail bit into the wood of her desk, her teeth grinding. She would DEFINITELY get to the bottom of this.

Pulling himself together, the teacher allowed a wide grin to crawl across his face. “Oh well done, Miss Park, well done! Who knew you had been hiding such talent?”

Willow sheepishly chuckled, feeling embarrassed. “I just got some good advice on how to move forward, and, well, I took it. It really helped me in how I approached this.” She gestured to her Abomination.

Amity silently growled to herself. ‘Advice. Yeah, right.’

“I must say, Miss Park, this Abomination you divized is simply marvelous!” The teacher exclaimed, attempting to clamber onto its arm. He was slightly surprised, however, when his legs sunk into the apparent Masterpiece’s arm. “Uh, Miss Park?”

Willow flushed, feeling sheepish. “Yeah, I haven’t perfected it yet, so it’s a little unstable right now. My apologies.”

The teacher waved it off. “Oh nonsense, while I admit that is a tad disappointing, you still have shown an incredible degree of improvement! In fact…” he gained a slightly mischievous grin. “In light of this development, I believe that I shall grant you the position of Top Student!”

“”What!?”” The twin shouts, both of surprise, one more of astonishment, the other of incredulity, rang through the classroom.

The teacher nodded. “Indeed.” With a twirl of his finger, the badge that embodied the title shifted from Amity’s uniform onto Willow’s, much to the former’s fury, and the latter’s embarrassment. “Ah, but don’t worry. This is temporary, just until the end of the day.” That statement mollified the two students, if only slightly. “Now then, I believe that it is time to release you all.”

And with that, the bell screamed, signalling all students to leave their classrooms. Willow was relieved, eager to meet back up with Luz and share the great news; her advice had worked even better than they had hoped! For another student, dread and anger burned in their heart. Amity had no idea how Willow had gotten access to that Abomination, but the fact that she was granted such a prestigious honor over it, one that Amity herself had worked to the bone to obtain? Amity was going to get answers, one way or another.

Boscha whistled to herself, casually strolling through the halls. The students she passed gave her a wide berth, even wider than usual. It seems rumors of her changed behavior had spread. Not that it bothered her. Not much bothered her at the moment really. If anything, she felt what could almost be considered relief, she mused to herself, oblivious to the vicious blow she sent to a passing Demon, sending them flying into the lockers, a thin line of blood dripping from their lips. A blank smile played across Boscha’s face, dull and lifeless. Just like she felt. What use was pride and social standing when you were weak? And she was. Weak.

She had made it abundantly clear. That power, that energy, the sheer visceral passion she had felt that night. She wanted to feel it again. Boscha’s free hand slipped into her pocket, mindlessly gripping the jewel she had found after that brawl between that Puppeteer freak and her.

Kill...Rip...Slaughter...Burn...Them...All…

Boscha snorted to herself as she gazed over the milling crowd. Acting as if they meant anything, as if anything in this trap meant anything. Her senses had sharpened after that night, to the point where she could feel the power flowing through each and every Witch and Demon she encountered. Her eyes narrowed at the thought of Demons; she had never really cared much about them before. But after that night, when she saw a taste of what they were capable of? The sheer weakness they carried around as they acted as if they were no different from Witches disgusted her on a visceral level.

Forcing her mind off of the dark train of thought, Boscha recalled what she felt when her heightened senses encountered Half-A-Witch; power. A wellspring of power was coiled in that body, but the feeling it gave, of roots burrowing and breaking through even the hardest of rock, of plants reaching from the lowest point to the heavens, of a world bursting with life, didn’t line up with what her senses gave her when it came to Abominations. In other words, she was mismatched. A pity. Still, that feeling from before, when her sense suddenly SCREAMED at her to turn and look… if only she could recall just what she had felt. In the back of her mind, she almost could say what she knew deep down was true; she was here.

“So, Miss Noceda, I believe you mentioned that you were interested in touring our grounds?” Hieronymus Bump, Principal of Hexside, and survivor of Eda Clawthorne’s reign of terror over the school during her younger years, mused as he overlooked the intriguing puzzle before him. A human, here on the Isles, something unheard of for generations! And, more than that, one who could use Magic, magic of a kind unlike any he had seen before.

“Indeed sir,” Luz respectfully replied. She was being genuine too. This guy just gave off those vibes to her, the feeling of someone who genuinely wanted to help, and was willing to put in the effort needed because of it. After she had demonstrated her magic earlier when she had ran into the man, and his subsequent attempt to apprehend her for trespassing, they had managed to reach an understanding. “It’s been a while since I finished my own official education, so seeing how Witches go about theirs is a treat.”

Bump blinked, wondering if he had heard that right. “I’m sorry, but did you say you had finished your Magical Education?” Was she some manner of prodigy?

Luz grinned, pleased at his reaction. “Yup. I am a fully accredited mage!” She flashed out the certificate her teacher had insisted she go in to get, oh so glad she had managed to hang onto it after all this time. As Bump marveled over her document, she continued. “While mages are trained differently than Witches seem to be,” she stated, looking over the numerous classrooms and varied subjects, “We are still trained to a standard where we can use our skills to maintain a financially stable lifestyle. And I, personally-”

“Are a qualified teacher, I believe you were going to say?” Bump interjected, bemused at the information the girl’s document had revealed. He internally chuckled at the girl’s visible deflation. Accredited teacher or not, she was still a youth of comparable age to some of his students. “Still, I must say, with your display earlier, and this here, I find myself a tad perplexed at your interest with our facilities.”

As the girl’s eyes sharpened, Bump’s internal alarm started ringing. “While coming here, I encountered one of your school’s students. Frankly, her talents were being wasted to an almost horrifying extent in her current classes.”

Bump raised an eyebrow, interested. “Oh?”

Luz nodded, solemn. “Yup. Her potential for Plant Magic was something I’ve never seen the like of before, and her power was on another level compared to the other kids her age I saw around town. The fact that she was doing Abominations, and utterly failing, was baffling to me.” She turned her gaze up to him. “Just how difficult is it to transfer to another Track here, sir?” She asked.

As Bump mulled over the information she had given him, he answered. “Not exceedingly. While it is irregular, students who show dissatisfaction with their current Track, and some measure of skill or talent in the Track they wish to transfer to, are allowed to switch. But, as I said, it is irregular.” He shrugged, feeling sad at his own statement. “I must ask, but is this student truly struggling so fiercely?”

“Her Abomination was literally just a head,” Luz bluntly stated. “And she was my age. She should’ve been much more skilled if she had even a slight level of talent for the Track.” Luz crossed her arms, sighing. “When I got an idea of what her core difficulties were, I gave her a mental trick to help her out. It should’ve given her enough of an edge to eek out a solid grade. But the trick has limits; it lets her get around some of her issues with making Abominations, but it won’t be able to take her very far, at most it gets her on level with the practical basics.”

“Hmm. That is worrying.” Bump pondered. “Tell you what, we shall meet with this student, and I’ll see what I can do.”

Luz smiled, glad it had gone well. “Why thank you, Principal Bump, sir.” The two shook hands.

#the owl house #fairy tail #owl house au #fairy tail au #owl house crossover #fairy tail crossover #luz noceda #willow park #amity blight #hieronymus bump #boscha the owl house #magic

[mistytpednaem]

So, what’s up with Another Me?

Honestly, I tried to draft this post, but the mental block made me decide to just go for it stream-of-consciousness style. Which I hope doesn’t bode poorly or anything. But here goes!

The Past and the Present

As you may know, I’ve been at this for a while now! Since 2014, in fact. In that time, I’ve gotten through the prologue and... most of chapter one (fun fact: I do have the entirety of this story mapped out! We are transitioning into what should be the final scene of this chapter. Originally, I wanted to make this post - or something along these lines - once I finished the chapter, but I figured since the year was about to end I’d be better off doing it now).

Now, let’s not mince words: that is a long time. I have six chapters total (not counting the prologue) mapped out for this comic, and there is more I’d like to do beyond it (what I like to call Arc 2, or, as you may or may not know:  The Part Where My Pet Character Marco Evangelisti Actually Shows Up). If I keep going at the current pace, I will probably not be done within my lifetime. So, if I’m aware of this, what gives?

... I mean, damn. There’s a lot I could point to; I was finishing my degree until 2016, and I suppose that takes something out of you. I have unreasonably high expectations for myself, as the people closest to me know. “2020 was a bad year for everyone,” I tell myself, before I also go on to say, “but even though updates slowed down even more this year, it’s not like they’ve been particularly speedy for the past couple of years, and I haven’t had that bad of a year anyway, so that’s a shoddy excuse.” And then some semblance of reasonable thought comes over me and reminds me my grandfather had a stroke in March of last year and passed away in early June of this year, and I’m like “I mean, okay, I guess I’ve been through SOME things.”

But lighthearted reflections aside, there are more actionable problems I have identified - such as, in an overarching sense, my attitude. My friends made me realise this some time late last year, and while I’ve been trying to work on it, I have to admit I’ve made very little progress: at some point, I developed a seriously unhealthy relationship with my art. Here is how my workflow has tended to go:

Start scripting update. I have a small readership, but that’s okay; I am grateful for every suggestion, I can work with this, and I AM building towards something that excites me.

Script done, regardless of insecurities. It’s time to start working on the actual panels. This sketch didn’t come out exactly the way I intended, but hopefully it still works (alternatively: this sketch looks promising! I am excited about this sketch. Sometimes, I do feel happy with my sketches).

Oh dear. I was hoping the lineart would help a little (alternatively: oh dear. the lineart completely ruined this perfectly fine sketch). Maybe it’ll still look alright with colour?

Oh no. I hate it, actually. I suppose I’m too sloppy; I should be more careful next time. 

(Repeat for however many panels i have planned for an update, typically with mounting guilt the longer I take on each one, because I keep taking longer and longer and, to my eyes, there is no improvement.)

Well, as my friends keep reminding me, done is better than perfect. Let’s post it!

The update is posted to a small readership and a quiet response, which, again, is okay, but leaves me wanting for feedback that I cannot get because I am reluctant to spread the word for several reasons, one of them being that I’ve convinced myself my work isn’t good enough.

Rinse and repeat, with the process continuing to be slow - if not turning exponentially slower - because apparently when things make you feel bad your brain starts wanting to protect you from them.

Apologies if this is a little harsh, but it is genuinely the most sincere breakdown of The Whole Deal that I can produce.

The good news is there are things I can do about this! Not easy things, granted, as they tie deeply into a lot of the recurring neuroses in my life, but in theory, the more I embrace imperfection, and the less I worry, the faster I should be able to work, and I should start getting some serotonin out of the whole thing again. In theory. This is not the only issue, however, and I have good and bad news about the other issue I’ve identified:

I don’t think the forum adventure format is working in its current shape.

It’s not about the suggestions - I love working with suggestions! Reader interaction is fun, it’s already shaped a good number of things and I hope it continues to do so. It’s more of a matter of visibility. Tragically, forums are not the most In Vogue things these days, and that reflects itself in, well, poor visibility. I’ve tried to remedy this by allowing suggestions through MSPFA, Tumblr and Twitter as well, but honestly, it hasn’t helped much. I think I’ve only gotten one or two suggestions through MSPFA? And don’t get me wrong, I’m sure this is in great part because of my passive role in getting the word out! But it’s all contributing towards this strange, shrinking spiral of a feedback loop.

The good news is that, since I have identified this problem, there should be an actionable solution. The bad news is I’m not quite sure what form that solution should take just yet.

The Future

Whew, that was a lot. So, what’s in store for 2021 and beyond?

Well, er, like I’ve implied, I’m a little unsure. But that’s my default state of existence, so let’s go over what I think.

When I finish chapter one, I would like to find a proper hosting place for AM. As I said, I don’t think the forum thing is quite working out, and MSPFA is a wonderful website, but I feel AM has little to do with most of the content on it beyond the second-person narration and the script-style dialogues. Whether that means a change in format is needed along with the change in hosting, I’m not sure; I would like to keep the whole “one panel per page with text underneath it” deal, which... should be doable on most places, but in this current year, I’m frankly not sure how it would come across, haha.

(I’m also not sure what this hosting place should be, mind you; potentially a wordpress blog with a layout tailored for comics, but drawing isn’t actually my day job, so I’m not sure how viable paying for a domain name might be. Or hosting, for that matter, should I need it - but imgur has been friendly enough of an image host so far.)

What I do know is that I want to keep the suggestions, even though I’m not entirely sure how well that will work without a forum structure. Comments on a post, perhaps? Maybe. But we can’t forget that this doesn’t solve one of the other big issues, which is my reluctance to advertise. And there’s still, you know, my unhealthy, unreasonably high standards affecting my entire workflow.

... But that all kind of comes back to one thing, doesn’t it? The fear of taking the plunge? That’s what I need to overcome. Plans are a good first step, but they mean nothing if I don’t act on them. Which is part of the reason I’m talking about all this - so people can hold me to my plans.

(Plus, like, offer feedback and opinions. That’s very valuable too.)

This whole Future section is a whole lot more uncertain than, I think, even I hoped for when I started writing this post. But I hope what I’m trying to say comes across in some kind of way - not just in the sense of this being elucidating (which, don’t get me wrong, hopefully it is!), but also as far as conveying my feelings to my friends and readers is concerned.

I’m going to keep trying, and I know I’m a little lacking in the Doing department, but now you all know what’s been on my mind. Thank you all for the support, stay safe in These Trying Times, and hopefully we can all keep growing together.

#another me

[extra-fulgadrome]

MVP - a Snapshot of Hana Song

Hana’s grandmother, born Sagong Chŏng-sun, had been a child when the Japanese occupation of Korea ended. At the height of the occupying force’s cultural suppression, Chŏng-sun’s own grandmother had taught her young granddaughter traditional Korean games that would have otherwise been stamped out — games rooted in folklore, some even older than hangul. These were Hana’s precious heirlooms, and many were the days spent cooped up in her mother’s tiny apartment, playing yutnori and gonu with her grandmother while they waited for the rain to let up.

“Halmoni…” Hana had once whined, pushing herself away from the low table to lie back against the threadbare rug. “You never let me win.”

Her grandmother simply gazed down at her, eyes steely and unsympathetic, as she gathered up the spread of playing cards to shuffle.

“If you want to win, work for it, child.”

She wasn’t the sort of person who backed down from a challenge. Bolstered by those words instead of being discouraged, Hana started to match her grandmother’s skill in games with her own cunning, despite the gap in experience. She won perhaps one in every five games they played, and was always improving — and when she won, how her grandmother’s eyes would shine with pride, and the moment wasn’t even spoiled when the old woman would tease her (“Are you getting better or just more lucky, Rabbit?”).

Then, her grandmother’s health took a turn for the worse, and little by little the games they shared became increasingly seldom occurrences, until they stopped altogether.

It was hard going for a long while after Grandmother passed. When Hana looked at the chess set in their once-shared bedroom, the game half played, never to be finished… it was all too much.

Seeing Hana’s despondency, her mother, a serious woman who did not share her family’s great love of games, did an impulsive thing. One late evening, she detoured on her way home from her work and purchased an old Sega Dreamcast from the secondhand shop, along with a handful of scratched CD roms. It was an ugly plastic box, two console generations out of date. Hana had never been too interested in video games — it was one of a number of “boy things” that, like wrestling in the muddy yard and smuggling nude magazines into school, she wasn’t terribly curious about. When she connected it to the little television in the dining room, only half the games still ran. But the dull glow of the television, the bleep-bloops of music, and the click-clack of colorful buttons was engaging enough to occupy those quiet, lonely hours before her mother returned home every night.

Hana wasn’t sure what changed, or why, but at some point before graduating middle school and after she had completed all of her Dreamcast games several times (perfect save files all in a row, one-hundred-percent completion) she found herself standing outside of a gaming cafe. The cafe’s staff charged by the hour to use their high-end PCs, top of the line rigs which outpaced her school’s computers (and the brick of a laptop her mother sometimes brought home, which was little more than a spreadsheet machine) to an absurd degree.

With only vague ideas of what she was getting herself into, Hana sat herself in a plush chair and pulled herself towards the computer, drawing a few curious looks from the largely male customers — curious, but not unkind as she had feared. With bright eyes and a heart full of hope, Hana logged on for the first time.

The subsequent year passed by in a blur, studies falling to the wayside even as she entered high school.

Warcraft. League. Counterstrike. Age of Empires.

A crowd at her back, cheering her on, as she no-scope headshots a platinum-level player from halfway across the map, again.

MMORPG. MOBA. FPS. RTS.

Her mother, face pulled into a frown, asking her why her grades have been dropping, asking where Hana went after school.

Casual. Noob. Hobbyist. Veteran.

When did the games become more than just a distraction, Hana wondered, idly purchasing herself a Starcraft subscription.

Winning got me this far, as she signed on to her first esports sponsorship. How much father can I go?

Then, later, when the MEKA recruiters come, was it in my blood all along?

Life was a challenge, but not one she couldn’t overcome. The training was tough and the hours were long, but it was just as fun as it was exhausting, and she always performed best under pressure.

Hana Song was a excellent gamer and entertainer, well-loved by her fan-base, but D.Va was transcendent. Rising star, liberator, celebrity, soldier. An idol, a warrior. The face of MEKA’s elite pilots, “D.Va” was a household name the world over, proudly and decisively combating the Omnic crisis. All of this came with perks — her mother would never have to work again, and what little time D.Va spent off of the training grounds or the battlefield passed in luxury.

And that was all well and good, but she’d be lying if she claimed any of that was the reason why she devoted herself to the Korean army’s Mobile Exo-Force.

Was it any real surprise that war was the greatest game mankind had ever produced?

Was it shocking, given that it was the favored subject matter of countless movies, novels, video games, children at play, and great works of art? Humans invented war before they’d made the wheel. D.Va turned war into the casual online entertainment of record numbers of steam watchers the world over. The world continued to spin.

There was some controversy at first, the rumblings of malcontent parents worried that their children would be desensitized to violence, but, well. It wasn’t as if she was fighting actual people, was she? Her heart went out to the sane Omnics in the world, the ones who hadn’t rebelled against their programming and spewed out appliances of death and destruction, but the thing that had risen out of the east Chinese sea and threatened to sink the Korean peninsula wasn’t exactly a cute little roomba.

Meeting the Bastion unit that old man Torbjörn dug out of Sweden had made her reconsider her position on Omnics, just slightly.

It had been during a photo-shoot they had met, a joint operation between the South Korean and the United States militarys — the kind of event that the Americans called “cross-promotion” when what they meant was “propaganda.” D.Va’s inclusion was almost an afterthought, pitched by MEKA for her brand’s popularity and to widen the expo’s audience appeal. For the most part, all she had to do was shake hands with shoddy old bureaucratic men and pose with her mech. After a few hours with the photographer the organizers ran out of things for her to do, and she was shuffled off into the gardens outside the building to sip non-alcoholic sparkling cider and be bored as hell while the “adults” talked business.

Then, from a behind a shrub, beeping. “Bwee, bwoo bwoorbweebweep booo…”

D.Va abandoned her empty plastic champagne flute to investigate, because beeping bushes were the most interesting thing that had happened in hours.

She followed the noise to its source, a pristine Bastion unit that she would have balked at the sight of and sounded the alarm… if it hadn’t been very carefully unshelling a bag of vending machine peanuts with its huge robot hands, and feeding them to a family of ravenous squirrels. D.Va vaguely recalled the news that they’d reclaimed a Bastion unit over in Europe, but she’d thought it would be under lock and key in some remote facility, not hanging out in a government park, making nice with the local wildlife.

“Bweep bweep,” the thing chimed, shifting its… optic?… over in her direction. Spotted.

D.Va took a step back, and snapped a twig beneath her heel, sending the rodents scattering. The machine beeped sadly at their departure, and five minutes later, despite herself, D.Va found herself keeping the Omnic company, sitting on its back as it rolled around the park in tank form.

It… Bastion unit E54, was a good listener, she’d give the robot that much. She spilled her guts to the machine about her frustrations and anxiety, and Bastion always replied with the appropriate emotion (if you could call it that) in its signature style. Sad bwoops for D.Va’s worries, curious bweeps when she talked about gaming, happy bwops and beeps when she talked about how proud she was of her progress.

A photo of D.Va in an elegant gown, riding on top of a Bastion unit as it plucked a flower and offered it to her, made its way on to Omnic rights webpages as a sign of peaceful progress between the races of man and machine… then was picked up a few days later by the mainstream media, who smeared her with rumor-mongering headlines like “KOREAN MECH PILOT, LYING DOWN WITH THE MACHINE?” and “SO-CALLED HEROINE OPENLY EMBRACES ENEMY”. It was a short-lived scandal, but those tense few days where MEKA threatened to pull D.Va from the spotlight made her sick with stress until the PR department managed to spin the story in a positive light.

Her fans (with a few crybaby outliers screaming about betrayal, but screw those guys, really) just thought it was a cute photo. Her Japanese audience especially appreciated its “moe factor” and spammed her with fan art.

D.Va was just glad that the experience, which she would remember fondly as the most open she had been since her grandmother had died, had not been entirely tainted by the unexpected aftermath.

From that point onward, however, MEKA was much more careful about where D.Va was allowed to go. Her life became nothing but endless training, drilling, and fighting. If she had thought her schedule had been strict before, the D.Va of a few months ago wouldn’t have been able to imagine what it was like to only be allowed nine hours to herself a day — eight for sleep, one for meals. Perhaps it was MEKA’s way of punishing her, or perhaps they feared an increase in the Omnic’s ferocity after the recent assassination of Tekhartha Mondatta, leader of the Omnic spiritual movement, the Shambali. Either way, with no time to spend on her usual hobby, the most she got in the way of stress relief was reading the travel blog of Mei-Ling Zhou (and a mobile version of  mahjong she played for a little before bed each night, but that was more so her brain didn’t get cobwebs).

Mei was a figure of fascination to D.Va — sleeping in the cold for nine years, only to emerge into a tumultuous world where her organization had been disgraced and disbanded. Having to escape from the arctic tundra with nothing but her wits… then going on to continue the work right where she and her fallen comrades had left off. Saving the world! ...from an ecological crisis, sure, which wasn’t exactly as cool as an evil empire bent on conquest or a dark god from beyond the stars or a demon army, but Mei very much had the indomitable spirit of her favorite video game heroes.  

So when she heard Mei was coming to South Korea to set up a weather data collection device at one of their military bases, D.Va asked — not begged, or pleaded, but seriously and maturely requested for her CO to grant D.Va the honor of acting as an ambassador during Mei’s visit.

Sooner or later the higher-ups at MEKA had to stop treating her like a child. She was fighting their war, they came to her for aid.

They tentatively agreed, provided D.Va remain on her best behavior leading up to the visit. It was like dealing with her mother all over again, and left a sour taste in her mouth as she exited the administration building.

At least the excitement made the coming weeks bearable.

Finally, the day came. D.Va stood tall, dressed in a pristine MEKA uniform, her arms crossed confidently over her chest and her stance wide and strong, as the transport shuttle reached the helipad and touched down. Her first thought, as the scientist clambered out of the craft somewhat unsteadily, was that Mei-Ling Zhou looked different when she wasn’t bundled up in that heavy fur coat.

A moment later second thought was she’s so cute! Round face! Big dewy eyes! And she was so short D.Va could reach down and scoop her right up! The MEKA pilot approached the older woman, smiling brightly.

“Zhou-Seonbae! Welcome to sunny South Korea,” D.Va said, bidding Mei peace with a gesture — or, as D.Va preferred, V for Victory.

“Hello Miss Song,” the woman said, in mildly accented hangul. Then, switching to english, “Just call me Mei, if you don’t mind!”

“Only if you call me D.Va!” she chirped, and Mei smiled back at her as she hefted a large metal case out of the cabin. She was strong for such a little woman.

They thanked the shuttle pilot, and D.Va escorted Mei to a waiting car and their security escort. The ride over to the cellphone tower where Mei would be installing her probe was only twenty minutes travel the base’s airport, but the short journey was full of happy chatter. D.Va confided that Mei’s travel journal was a source of great personal inspiration to her, and the older woman introduced her to Snowball, Mei’s cute little drone.

“Snowball… that’s nun mungchi, in hangul.”

“Nun mungzhe…?” Mei said, consideringly, patting the little bot on its round head. Snowball’s blue LED eyes swiveled around to look at her. Adorable.

“Nun mungchi.” D.Va held up a finger, her face serious. The spitting image of a patient, if strict, teacher.

“Nun mungchi.” Mei repeated earnestly.

“You’ve got it!” D.Va said, delighted. Mei put her hand on her chest and beamed, as if receiving a great honor.

“Niiirn miiirrchiii,” Snowball whirred cheerfully, bopping the car’s roof in its excitement before careening back down to the seat below, blue eyes spinning cartoonishly.

They were still laughing when their car pulled up to the tower.

At the end of Mei’s stay, the two women parted with great reluctance, both promising to stay in touch. D.Va couldn’t have been happier to count Mei among her friends, and refreshed from the time she had spent getting to know her hero, plunged back into her training with renewed vigor and enthusiasm.

Just in time, too, as MEKA mobilized in response to one of the worst Omnic raids yet, spearing farther inland than even the most pessimistic estimate predicted. The enemy forces had quickly spilled over into unevacuated civilian territory and time was of the essence. They deployed at four in the morning to hold down the line in Daegu while the infantry set up a defensive perimeter. Her orders were to cut the enemy off from encroaching further, to minimize damage whenever possible, and to defend fleeing civilians.

As D.Va touched down in Daegu and began to repel the machine invaders, she saw there weren’t many people left to defend.

This battle, she thought grimly, as she gunned down a line of drones as they swept through an abandoned playground, is not exactly livestream material.

Hemmed in on all sides, D.Va made a tactical retreat and found a vantage point from which to target her foes at more of a distance — everyone knew the high ground was most advantageous. Her fusion cannons were essentially buffed shotguns, the wide spread of buckshot not meant for precision shooting, but she would manage. The targeting system of her mech got a real workout as she sniped stragglers from the Omnic’s main forces (“Boom, headshot!”), eventually drawing their attention all over again.  Nowhere to go, she switched mental tracks to tower defense game and activated her mech’s defense matrix, unleashing a strategic barrage of missiles. Soon, the twisted bodies of the Omnic assault forces lay strewn around the pitted street, their zerg rush at a merciful end — for now.

“...multikill,” she panted, the fusion cannons mounted in her mech’s arms smoking, the barrels white-hot. Any more and the metal would warp — not that it mattered much now, seeing that she was down to less than three-fourths of her ammo capacity. A bead of sweat dripped down her face. If she were being honest, that had been... a real pinch.

Time to restock.

“Need a supply drop,” she said into the comms, waiting for confirmation from command. A minute passed in worrying silence.

“This is D.Va, requesting a resupply drone. Please acknowledge, over.”

There was no response. She switched to the encrypted channels, trying again to reach command to no avail, before attempting to contact the various squad captains.

Nothing.

“Is it broken…? Well, that’s just my luck!”

Even in the privacy of her thoughts, she refused to acknowledge the bleak alternative.

A plan started to come together. Under the circumstances, D.Va would have to make her way over to the supply depot on foot... so to speak. She boosted into the air, intending to take the rooftop route, collateral damage be damned. It was just a few short miles to the north, along the perimeter.

An unexpected burst of fire caught her mech across its visor, the heavy steel slug sending a long hairline fracture through the supposedly bulletproof polymer. She wheeled around to face the source, spotting an airborne Omnic with a mounted railgun of all things. She strafed left, aiming carefully for the machine’s rotors, but it simply tilted away, her barrage deflected harmlessly by its armored shell.

...OP, plz nerf.

Not missing a beat, she fired her last missile at the hovering Omnic, but the distance was too great — it simply swiveled its body 360 degrees clockwise on an axis, the missile sailing harmlessly through the spot its bulk had been occupying a nanosecond previously. Just as she began contemplating activating her mech’s self destruct sequence and booking it, the readout on her HUD indicated a swarm of enemies was approaching from the southwest. Fast.

“Ah, shi-bal…”

No choice now, she would have to make a break for it—

“I’ve got you all in my sights.”

A splash of light in the alleyway where the Omnic hoard was approaching, and one by one the enemy’s icons flickered out, leaving just two — the flying railgun in enemy-red, and the unknown combatant in grey, who was approaching her position now. Were they friend or foe?

As the grey icon came nearer, one thing was clear: they were about to walk right into that railgun’s line of sight, and it was almost done charging a second shot.

Time to be a goddamn hero.

“STAY BACK,” she shouted, the mech magnifying her voice, as she grabbed her light gun from its holster and activated the self-destruct subroutine. The mech launched forward and she launched back, and she was briefly airborne before landing on her heels, digging into the asphalt even as she tried to gain some distance. The timing was crucial, and she knew it by heart, but this was cutting it a little close—

The fusion reactor detonated, shattering a block’s worth of glass and decimating the aerial Omnic.

Well, if anyone asked, she’d just say an Omnic did it.

D.Va, upright and unharmed, popped her gum and turned to face the stranger, tossing her hair over her shoulder. She narrowed her eyes.

“I know you,” she said in english. “The American vigilante… Soldier: 76. Is that right?”

His weapon, which had been raised in alarm towards the explosion, slowly lowered as he took her in. She kept her grip on her light gun tight, but let her arm hang at her side. This guy could be dangerous, could be an ally. She would have to play this by ear.

The masked man grunted by way of greeting, then relaxed his stance. That was no way to react to a warrior of her caliber, but if he wasn’t going to take her seriously as a potential combatant, she would happily take advantage of his oversight. Moreover, now that D.Va could get a good look at him, he seemed injured. There was no visible blood, but he was favoring his left leg… a sprain or break, perhaps.

“You’re that… actress.” Tch.

“I’m a proud soldier of the Mobile Exo-Force of the Korean Army, and you are wanted by the UN for questioning.” He ought to know his place, this old man.

“You, a soldier?” He shook his head, and without the benefit of seeing his expression, it was difficult to tell if it was in disbelief... or amusement. “Your country drafts middle schoolers, now?”

“I am a mech pilot with hundreds of confirmed kills, and unless you can withstand a direct hit from a weapon that damaged tech developed on a multi-million dollar budget, I also just saved your life.”

Perhaps he was shocked into submission, or perhaps he was grateful but too proud to admit it, but regardless, the old man had nothing to say to that. Cool and professional despite her distaste, she approached him from his injured side and offered him her shoulder. Grumbling, he slung his gun around his back and wordlessly accepted her aid, leaning on her as she supported him. Soldier: 76 was heavy, but D.Va didn’t just train in mech piloting. No, she was also quite talented on the track, in the obstacle course, and (naturally), on the range. With her free hand, she twirled her gun.

“You’re a decent shot, right, 76? Try to keep up. It’s a long walk to the perimeter.”

“Hmph. We’ll see who slows down who.”

The destruction of Daegu was a huge blow to the people of South Korea, who had grown comfortable and confidant after MEKA began its initiative to outfit its mechs with pilots and repel the Omnic invasion. Morale was especially low in MEKA’s headquarters, the mood desperate and mournful since the confusion caused by the communications blackout (which resulted from an Omnic hack) had seen many young pilots killed. The populace’s faith in MEKA was shaken, just as those pilots who had managed to survive the disaster where shaken by the loss of their comrades in arms.

It wasn’t the first time they had taken casualties, but never before have they been so numerous.

D.Va felt a wave of pity and understanding for the dissolution of Overwatch, an event of which Soldier: 76 had spoken to her about, just a little, as they fought and fled their way through the streets of Daegu. It had been what little information she managed to get out of him, between his long bouts of gruff silence, occasional condescending remarks, and even rarer praise.

For her part, D.Va was keeping busy with disaster relief. She, along with a bulk of the MEKA recruits, had volunteered their time to the recovery efforts. Command had cleared them for this duty almost almost as soon as they put the request in, probably just because it was a good idea to stay visible to help PR, but who knows? Maybe they thought it would lift their spirits.

As much as D.Va believed this was valuable work, however, it just depressed her. The sooner she was allowed to fight again, the happier she would be. No matter what that Grandpa: 76 said, she knew her place was on the battlefield.

For now, at least, she could occupy her time constructively. It was better than sitting back at base, doing nothing. Yesterday she had cleared a street of rubble, today she assisted the paramedics with search and rescue. Tomorrow she might help with handing out supplies...

Her mech beeped twice, and a bell icon appeared at the bottom of her HUD. A call, nonurgent.

She pressed the receive button, accepting it immediately.

“D.Va,” she identified.

“It’s Maeng,” came the familiar voice of her fellow recruit. “We’ve got a VIP waiting in the market district. You mind playing babysitter until we can get a security detail on him? My shift is just about over and I wanted to grab a bite before I get some shuteye.”

“Yes, yes,” she replied, as he pinged her the VIP’s location on her minimap. “You can always  count on me to make a good impression!”

Her usual cheer wasn’t quite there, but Maeng still thanked her before he exited the call. He was a sweet kid, and it was heartbreaking the way he hadn’t been sleeping since the incident. It was the least she could do.

D.Va headed over, detouring briefly to assist with an electrical fire that had broken out, before arriving at the designated area. Exiting her mech, she checked her hair in the glossy reflection of its visor, winking at the cute girl mirrored back at her.

“Oh my gosh,” went a warm voice behind her, from inside a large emergency tent, “I mean, I knew you were from here, but I never thought… well…”

That voice was… familiar.

The man stepped into the light, and D.Va’s eye widened. The Brazilian DJ smiled sheepishly, scratching the back of his head as he walked… no,  skated forward.

“It’s so cool to meet you. Wish it was under better circumstances, but I’m a big fan, D.Va!”

“You’re Lúcio! The Lúcio,” she exclaimed, a disbelieving smile pulling at her lips. That Maeng could’ve at least warned her…!

Lúcio blinked at her, then grinned goofily. D.Va trotted forward giddily, and the two shook hands enthusiastically.

“Haha, you’ve heard of me? Man, that’s wild. People know me even in Korea, huh. Makes me feel even better about doing this charity concert, if people won’t be wondering ‘who’s this guy?’ the whole time, you know?”

“Of course we know you! Synaesthesia Auditiva has topped the music charts here for months and months now! A lot of us followed you even before that, on the internet.”

“I’d been told global reception was pretty good, but you know, there’s a big difference between being told and seeing it for yourself, I guess! I probably don’t even have to say this, but you’re really big in Brazil. The kids call you Coelhinho, and I’ve even seen people with tattoos of your logo, believe it or not.”

“Oh, I believe it,” D.Va said confidently, putting her hands on her hips. Lúcio laughed good-naturedly, doubling over and shaking his head so all his funny dreadlocks waved around. When he rose, D.Va couldn’t help but think that he was awfully tall. She stood up straighter, feeling her face light up just a little bit.

“So you’re doing a free concert?” she asked, leading them back to the seating in the tent. Folding chairs. Not the most comfortable or appropriate thing for a pair of international celebrities, but that was life.

“Yeah. I’ve done this a couple of times before, like during that hurricane that wrecked Georgia and Florida, or when that bad earthquake hit Italy. Trying to use the power of music to lift spirits, you feel me? First time I’ve ever had a concert in Asia, though.”

“I’m sure the people here will be happy to have you play for them,” D.Va said. She meant it, too.

“I’ve got a fundraiser going online right now, too, and it’s going pretty good. Hopefully I’ll be able to give a little more than good vibrations,” Lúcio said, smiling conspiratorially. “I’d give you a sneak peak at the set I cooked up, but I can’t even get ready until the power in this area comes back, and the last guy told me it might be a while.”

“...probably a few hours, at least,” she admitted.

The conversation lulled into a slightly awkward pause, as they both smiled and tried not to look at each other. D.Va didn’t understand why she was being so silly about this — she had met scores of K-Pop artists and famous actors, so she shouldn’t be feeling this flustered. She stared at the dusty ground, and traced a line in the dirt with her foot. It gave her an idea.

Finally, she broke the silence.

“Lúcio, have you ever played gonu?”

“Nope,” he replied, flashing a winning smile. D.Va liked that smile. She liked it a lot.

“It’s a traditional Korean game — a little bit  like tic-tac-toe. Here, let me show you…”

Happy Birthday, @cervamater. Keep on shining, starlight.

#overwatch #d.va #hana song #fan fic #happy birthday mirin

[collage-portfolio-time]

Interview Preparation

Career Choice : Illustrator

Company Choice : FolioArt

1. Tell me about yourself. I am a 16 year old artist who has been working with portraiture, both realistic and cartoonish, since I was very small. I have won 2 consecutive awards for the international government-run ‘Manga Jiman’ competition, both in 2019 and 2020, winning the youths prize in 2019 and both the youths prize and 7th place in 2020, ‘making history’ as I won the youths prize two years running. The music I listen to inspires me a lot as what I draw can sometimes entirely depend on what I am listening to at the time. I have had a major interest in manga and anime since I was young and that has also influenced my style of work and the fandoms I go around to spread my collection of work to different places of the internet.

2. Why do you want to work for us? I love the fact your company will represent a range of illustrators, both well-known and up and coming. That makes you seem much more open to different styles of work and experimentation to me which I find myself drawn to.

3. What can you bring to our company? Why should we hire you? I can bring a range of styles. Like Ive said before, I work in both realism and cartoonish styles of work, which I feel could bring more people in from completely different sides of the art world. I can also work with a wide range of mediums, from digital work to watercolors, although I find myself preferring digital for the clarity you can get in an image.

4. What do you know about our company? You were established in central London in the 1970’s and are now working worldwide. You cover all sides of the art world from traditional works to GIF’s. You say you have a personal relationship with your illustrators. You have also represented artists that have worked with well-known bands for album art which include Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd and The Rolling Stones, and have also had artists under your wing work with film studios like when Joe Petagna created the concept for the Facehugger in Alien.

5. Where do you see yourself in 5 years? What are your career goals? I hope to see myself with enough of a following to simply be able to create for myself and be able to make a living, as selfish as that sounds. I don’t enjoy working for others unless I like their concepts and ideas as I will just simply be uninterested in what I create and end up producing something boring as a result. I want to work to the best of my ability, and as much as the art world is ran on what others want to see, I want to dictate what I do in the process while also getting approval from the people who will consume it.

6. Why did you choose this field/career path? I chose this career path as it’s the only thing I know. As I child I would never let myself do anything but draw, I was obsessed with the gratification I got when I saw that I was improving. That was probably a detriment in the long run as now I feel obligated to work in the art industry because if I don’t what have I been doing this whole time. I feel like I owe it to myself and to the people who have funded my interests and hobby.

7. Can you tell me about your role in your current place of work? Right now I am a college student, so my role is to learn. I will create, be criticized and create again. My job is to learn from the criticism and improve upon myself to represent the collage in a good light as well as myself, and hopefully gain recognition so the collage can say that they taught me for better reputation.

8. What are your strengths/weaknesses? My biggest weakness is my pride. I will become quite offended by the slightest bit of criticism that I think isn't warranted, and yet I am so self-critical that I will rip a piece to shreds if I go a touch out of my lines while painting. It hurts to have my fears confirmed that I won't be the gifted child forever and that I will blur into the crowd of other talented artists in my classroom. It's not only that but also the thought that I spent so long on a piece to be told that it didn’t match up to an idea someone else wanted or there wasn’t enough color, and I find myself unconsciously lashing out, but I am trying to work past that and take the criticism thankfully. Despite that, what could be considered one of my greatest strengths from time to time will be my stubbornness, as I will stick to a plan I like no matter what others tell me might go wrong, which sometimes works in my favor. Technically, I am more skilled with watercolors and digital mediums than I thought I was, as the amount of people I hear struggle with them is astonishing to me as I find I work with them with relative ease, but to counter that I now struggle with mediums such as acrylics and colored pencils as Ive laid off them for so long. I hope to get better with those mediums in the future as I practice more with them again.

9. Tell me about a time when you worked in a team? Were you a leader/coordinator/etc.? I studied performing arts when I was at The Academy Grimsby secondary school. We were tasked to create a script or scenario based on a prompt that I can't quite place now, and we were a group of 4 actors as most people there were dancers. I ended up writing up the entire script that I put together, although the others did prompt some ideas, and almost directing practices. I felt I was forced into a leading position as the others weren't engaging as much as they probably should have, apart from one other person who seemed to take it as seriously as I did. I feel despite the fact I was practically shoved into the lead, and even though the script was probably shoddy as I had never really written besides from creative writing in English, I lead them well considering I was known to be quite antisocial and introverted. That situation made me realize that I was better at controlling situations and being assertive to others than I ever thought I would be, although I wasn’t too strict or bossy from what I remember.

10. Tell me about a time when you faced a challenge. What was your reaction? How did you solve it? I faced quite a big challenge when I created the first page of my 2020 Manga Jiman entry. In the first page you get quite a copious amount of building shots, and while it looked good how I imagined it, I realized when I had finished the sketch that I had never really drawn a building before. It took me two days of constant redoing, experimentation and almost scrapping the first page entirely before I finally felt happy with what I had produced. Nowadays I find it much easier to step out of my comfort zone and delve into architecture when drawing backgrounds, and I feel this experience helped me progress as an artist.

11. Tell me about an accomplishment you are most proud of. Ive mentioned this before a copious amount of times, but my Manga Jiman awards. As they are government run and judges by professional mangaka (manga creators) I think it gives my awards that extra flair of pride that makes me cling to them. The thing I will probably particularly cling to is the fact they said I was ‘making history’ with my consecutive youths prize wins, which I think is quite a good thing to be able to say on a resume. Not only that, but my winning submission for the 2020 competition was given a talk about on the award ceremony by a legendary mangaka Kiriko Kubo, who said my ‘line was neat, the layout was good and the main character was charming.’,’the work can be read smoothly’, and that ‘creating atmosphere is important, and being able to do it like this is an exellent talent’. It gives me pride that someone so prestigious in a world I had barely entered would praise my work so highly.

12. What motivates you? What can motivate me most are two things: approval from others and money. I am materialistic at heart but also sensitive to others comments on my work, so the both end up being great pushes in my art career. I feel if I am being paid for my work that it is worth something, because objectively it is, and being praised for what I do makes me feel validated beyond what I thought was possible, so the two can push me to keep going.

13. What was your biggest failure? What did you learn from it? My biggest failure is the many times Ive tried to work with soft pastels. I don’t know what it is with that medium that renders me unable to function with them but I cannot create a good piece with those sticks of chalk in my hands. I learnt that I am not the best with dry mediums and should probably keep to my paints and digital mediums for now, although I'm always open to trying them out again and again until I get used to them.

14. What was your biggest mistake? How did you fix it? My biggest mistake was thinking I was going to get placed in my first Manga Jiman entry in 2019. I was 15 at the time, so there wasn’t much of a chance I was going to be placed within the top 10 because of my age alone but I didn’t realize that at the time. I had gotten so apprehensive about results that should've been obvious from the moment I was shortlisted, but I was aiming for the top 5 in the placings. I still think that my work might've placed in top 5 had I been older, but the embarrassment and sadness about ‘only’ getting youths prize at the time was almost overwhelming. That experience taught me not to get my hopes up on stuff like that and set myself up for the worst when it comes to things like this in the future, which I did in the 2020 entry. I was simply aiming for 10th place as I wasn’t even aware the youths prize was being awarded that year because there was only 11 of us, and one of the prizes was the yonkoma award for people who were between 11 and 13 containing a single 4 panel page which one of the shortlisted entries mirrored. I ended up getting more that I thought I would've in the terms of awards and recognition which I was happy about.

15. Are you willing to relocate/travel? I am willing to relocate and travel, although i would prefer to do so with someone else I trust as I tend to get nervous in new situations should that be possible.

16. Do you have any hobbies? What are they? I don’t really do much other than draw for my social media’s and complete collage work. I do small things such as singing and watching twitch streamers, but those are few and far between or happening while I work so I don’t think they can be considered big hobbies of mine. I used to bake when I had to take a lot of time out of secondary school due to sickness but I had a lot of spare time back then so it was more possible for me to have hobbies other than art.

17. What are your computer skills/technical skills? I know how to work almost all Microsoft programs, office 365/outlook, and various digital art programmes such as medibang paint pro and the basics of photoshop/illustrator. I also know general video editing such as keyframing and audio manipulation in Wondershare Filmora.

18. How did you hear about this position? I chose to contact you for this position as I had found you take submissions for new artists to represent and thought I'd shoot my shot.

19. What are your salary requirements? Minimum wage and whatever you/the client feel I deserve on top of that, even if that’s nothing at all. As long as I get minimum wage for my work and supplies, I am fine with that.

20. Do you have any questions for me? How would you represent me? Would it be a situation where you would recommend me to people looking to commission and leave us to our devices or would you be there the whole process?

[yahooben]

'Mass Effect: Andromeda' review: A sprawling space drama that struggles to stay on target

‘Mass Effect: Andromeda’ invites you to strap in for another space opera.

“Space is big,” beloved author and interdimensional traveler Douglass Adams noted in his seminal towel-seller, “The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.” “You just won’t believe how vastly, hugely, mind-bogglingly big,” he wrote, hammering home the point that when it comes to bigness, even our new president has nothing on the universe.

That size presents quite a challenge to game makers, but few have hacked away at the quandary with as much gusto as developer Bioware. The team behind the blockbuster “Mass Effect” trilogy managed to capture the epic scope of the big unknown while keeping our eyes trained on the intimate interactions between characters, a space opera in its truest — and, in terms of video games, among its best — form. So when they announced a return to their beautifully realized universe with “Mass Effect: Andromeda” ($60 for Xbox One, PS4, PC), we all got very excited indeed.

But a great deal has happened since 2012’s “Mass Effect 3” simultaneously wowed and enraged gamers; namely, “The Witcher 3,” “Fallout 4,” Bioware’s own “Dragon Age: Inquisition” and a host of other genre-blending RPGs (you could arguably toss recent greats “Horizon: Zero Dawn” and “The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild” into that mix, too). Big-budget role-playing games have blossomed in the past five years.

‘Mass Effect: Andromeda’ has the makings of a great game, but misses the mark with a number of missteps.

And unfortunately, “Mass Effect: Andromeda” picked up some unwelcome visitors on its long journey to your gaming machine. Though it has some stellar moments, “Andromeda” tries to cram too many ideas into one package, turning its obsession with the bigness of space into a crutch for uncharacteristically shoddy workmanship.

The (next) final frontier

To answer your most obvious question: no, you do not need to have played the prior “Mass Effect” games to understand what the hell is happening here. “Andromeda” tells a self-contained story featuring entirely new characters, planets and star systems, though references to elements from the original trilogy (the Citadel, the Geth, Spectre, etc.) do occasionally pop up.

The game is set roughly 600 years after the events of the original trilogy. Just as things were heating up in the Milky Way (around the “Mass Effect 2” timeframe), several giant Ark ships were launched towards the faraway heart of the Andromeda galaxy. Snuggled in cryo beds and dreaming of a new life, the adventurous souls aboard these vessels were hoping to discover habitable new worlds and plant some flags.

‘Mass Effect: Andromeda’ sees you exploring the Andromeda galaxy for a new home. But – spoiler alert – things go very wrong.

Naturally, things go sideways. You play as either Scott or Sara Ryder, a twin thrust into the role of ‘Pathfinder’ and tasked with guiding a ragtag group of aliens in a quest to find a new home. It’s all pretty standard sci-fi stuff — a bite of “Star Trek,” a nibble of “Battlestar” — but Bioware crafts a well-told tale that rises above its derivative vibe to keep you, um, engaged throughout.

Mostly, that’s done though a tweaked version of the branching narrative structure Bioware is known for. Conversation options have expanded beyond the binary Paragon/Renegade of prior games, adding flexibility and giving you a bit more agency over your particular Ryder. Despite some nasty bad guys and extremely high stakes, it’s also significantly more lighthearted than the trilogy’s dour doomsday scenario. Regardless of how you play Ryder, he (or she) is quick to joke and seems intent on keeping the joy of discovery intact.

The dialogue system isn’t as thrilling as it used to be, however. Other franchises have taken the cue and built branching narratives with greater emotional value. “The Witcher 3,” “Life is Strange” — heck, the entire Telltale Games catalog (whose Season 1 of “The Walking Dead” bested “Mass Effect 3” in most 2012 Game of the Year Awards) have pushed the envelope of branching narrative design, making each choice feel impactful. Though your tone changes based on your responses in “Andromeda,” Ryder’s playful, at time snarky attitude takes some of the gravitas out of the decision-making. You rarely break a sweat.

‘Mass Effect: Andromeda’s’ dialogue system lacks the kind of gravitas that makes games like ‘The Witcher 3’ so addictive and powerful.

Still, developing relationships, opening/closing paths, trying to get busy with a blue lady — it’s all here, and thanks to an interesting story, likable characters and great voicework by both male and female Ryders, “Andromeda” does a convincing job of turning you into Captain Kirk.

A downright uncanny job, you might say.

Valley of the Dolls

Unless you’ve been avoiding the internet for the last week, you’ve likely caught wind that gamers are, to put it mildly, displeased with the “Andromeda’s” animations, particularly its facial close-ups. And, well, yeah, the facial animations aren’t great. The game doesn’t just glide over the uncanny valley, it builds a big space house and moves right in.

I typically don’t put too much stock in this; plenty of outstanding games are kind of ugly up close (I’m looking into your lifeless eyes, “Fallout 4”). What makes it so rough here is the amount of time you spend staring at close-ups. A good third of the game is spent chatting with people and developing relationships, but when they look like broken robots, it breaks the spell. About halfway through the game, my Ryder inexplicably developed two wicked lazy eyes that lasted for a good 10 hours.

‘Mass Effect: Andromeda’s’ human characters look like dead-eyed androids.

Perhaps the increased power of modern consoles/PCs (I played on PS4) is the culprit — as the theory goes, the closer you get to reality, the deeper the valley. But as ugly as it gets for humankind, the power leads to some amazing aliens. The brutish, dinosaur-like Krogans have never looked better, and jittery eyes and smooth skin give the amphibious Salerians incredible life. I relished every chance to chat with non-humans, both to bask in Bioware’s great work and as a respite from the mannequin onslaught.

This sort of uneven delivery extends to the rest of the game’s graphics. The art design is triumphant – Issac Asimov would commend the look and feel of the game’s colorful terrain, sweeping interstellar views and massive starships – but technical glitches abound. Flickering textures are common, load times are excessive and occasional pop-in mars the stunning planetside vistas. These sorts of glitches aren’t game-breaking, but they speak to a project struggling to bear its own weight.

Humans might not look good in ‘Mass Effect: Andromeda,’ but the aliens are gorgeous.

Galaxy quest

And make no mistake: “Andromeda’s” scope is massive.

Much of the game takes place on explorable planets that are significantly bigger than the regions found in “Dragon Age: Inquisition.” You can spend hours scouring the nooks and crannies of each location from the comfort of your Nomad rover. And as you find ways to make life more hospitable, the areas open up even further.  

‘Mass Effect: Andromeda’s’ worlds are vast and beautiful.

A star map gives you free reign to explore the Heleus cluster of the Andromeda galaxy. You can only land on and explore a handful of planets, but you rarely feel hemmed in, and the desire to build outposts pushes you to approach Andromeda like a real pioneer. It’s a good hook.

But this goal is quickly buried beneath a ridiculous number of less essential Things to Do. Some are classic “Mass Effect” – your shipmates have needs, and if you want to unlock their highest-level abilities or get them into bed (perv), you’ll need to attend to those — but you pick up other, seemingly unwanted side quests with alarming ease.

Checking in on an outpost? Be careful who you talk to, because apparently every single life form in the galaxy is incapable of handling their own business. Even if they don’t have a gigantic exclamation point on their head, they’ll probably ask you to shuttle something somewhere or look into a mild, pointless drama. And you’ll feel pressed to track down every one, because you never know which insignificant-sounding rabbit hole will yield some legit XP or loot.

‘Mass Effect: Andromeda’ piles on the quests like every other RPG, but organizes them poorly.

This is fairly common to RPGs, but “Andromeda’s” flood of quests is compounded by terrible quest tracking. A Journal ostensibly keeps tabs on them, but inexplicably lists them based on where you picked them up rather than where they are located in the world. It’s a crazy way to organize quests; land on a planet and you’ll have to either scour dots on the map or rummage through your Journal to figure out what, if anything, you’re supposed to do there.  

This alone drove me nuts. I may be a real-world organizational disaster (I am a writer, after all) but this is definitely a trait I don’t want to carry into my sci-fi power fantasy.

Laser tag

On the other hand, I did get to carry lots of guns. And this is one area where “Andromeda” really fixes something.

The game does a fine job of improving and even amping up “Mass Effect’s” combat. Jump jets and a handy dash make you far more maneuverable, which is a boon since you contend with enemies in open-world locations. Skills and proficiencies can totally alter the way you play. Focus on Combat to be a Rambo, invest in Biotics to be a Jedi, stick with Tech to hurl fire and ice, or spread the wealth and be a bit of each. Deep but approachable, the system serves as a solid backend for the on-the-field action.

If there’s one thing Bioware improved for ‘Mass Effect: Andromeda’ it’s the game’s combat.

I forgot exactly how shooty “Mass Effect” was, and once you get used to the fact that you’re not playing a game quite as refined as the “Halos” and “Horizons” it attempts to ape, it falls into a pleasant rhythm. Nice touches abound, like jumping and pausing in the air for a few seconds while aiming down your sights. Experimenting with different abilities is also a snap thanks to a handy respec option, quelling the FOMO that rules most games that force to to stick with one class. It’s flexible and fun.  Bioware upped their game here, for sure.

But it isn’t perfect. The wide-open universe only yields a handful of enemy types, and none of them are particularly exciting. You have little control over your two fellow squadmates, and the weak enemy A.I. means you never need to think strategically when deciding which companions to bring into battle. I mostly stuck with the Krogan warrior because he looks cool. A baffling “auto” cover system claims that you just need to move close to an object with your gun drawn to hide behind it, but it doesn’t work very well. It just ends up getting you shot a lot, even when you think you’re safe.

You want jump jets? You’ve got jump jets.

Systems overload

“Andromeda” just doesn’t know when to quit, layering on screen after screen and system after system to make even the simplest task, like equipping a hot new weapon, painstaking.

Find a gun? You’ll need to head back up to your ship or find a “forward station” to switch your loadout, because, well, who knows. Tiny, uniform iconography turns inventory management into a slog. You know the thrill of finding and ogling a gorgeous, exciting new rifle in “Destiny?” That ain’t here.

Scanning planets for resources takes forever due to pretty but infuriatingly slow pans and zooms. Tracking down a specific resource to, for instance, craft a new helmet, is a total crapshoot. Bioware’s focus on the big picture has left a surprising number of holes in its basic RPG foundation.

They even tossed in co-op multiplayer, because it’s 2017 and I think that’s required by law now. “Mass Effect 3” toyed with this and it returns largely unchanged, as you and some pals clear out waves of increasingly stubborn baddies. It’s got its own progression system and offers a decent break from the RPG slog, though considering the core game could take a good 80 hours to complete, I’m not sure anyone needs it.

So do they need “Mass Effect: Andromeda” at all? That’s a tough call. A cool game is buried beneath “Andromeda’s” issues. When the guns are on point and you’ve exploded a Biotic combo, or when the ramifications of some difficult choice made hours ago comes back to haunt you, “Mass Effect: Andromeda” scratches that old space itch. But getting past the technical gaffes and unfriendly interface requires a great deal of patience. Space is big, indeed, but it’s supposed to be fun, too.

Platform reviewed: PS4

What’s hot: Cool story; outpost settling is a good hook; improved maneuverability; deep combat options

What’s not: Technical issues; aggravating interface; seriously uncanny valley; quest quantity over quality; dated feel

More games coverage:

‘Middle-earth: Shadow of War’ lets you lead orcish armies — and destroy them

Nintendo Switch launch games: The must-haves, the maybes and the probably nots

‘For Honor’ review: You’ll need skill to survive this online fighter

‘Horizon: Zero Dawn’ Review: Combat and storytelling shine in spectacular sci-fi epic

The $450 Analogue Nt mini brings new life to old-school NES games

‘Resident Evil 7’ review: It’s a screaming good time

Ben Silverman is on Twitter at ben_silverman.

#gaming #_revsp:yahoofinance.com #Mass Effect #games reviews #_author:Ben Silverman #Mass Effect: Andromeda #video game reviews #Mass Effect: Andromeda review #_lmsid:a077000000BAh3wAAD #reviews #game reviews #_uuid:c94944b9-14e5-3c4f-83e6-5d5367276538 #video games

[honestlyvan]

@humxo replied to your post: After talking about this with Snazz, I feel like I...

honestly like. ao3 isn’t the best kind of platform for the writing i enjoy most, and isn’t a social platform meant for clicking and engaging in that way. the…“emotional labor” of fandom is disappearing, i guess. it’s becoming a toxically masculinized space somehow emotionally. as a sidenote, consider…in context of these very real fandom problems, and your depression and anxiety stuff, the way you’ve dropped outlets and hobbies out of a sense of…not putting enough labor in them, as you say it, and therefore “not counting”     yr brain weasels might be making it worse by degrading your efforts, the skills given by previous practice/experience, and getting hit hard by shoddy criticisms made in bad faith. if so, i hope that context is a helpful one for how to find your happiest road forward.   

Yeah. I don't know how and I don't know why, but at some point that culture of conversation that made fandom such a good place to be died, and IDK, I guess some form of socialisation has taken the place of what I’m used to but IDK how to approach it, I don’t know how to engage in it, I don’t know what to do about it.

The conversations aren’t about the things anymore, and honestly on Tumblr they never really were? When I started my Tumblr I started it as a way to have my personal shit away from the fandom shit I’d keep in my other accounts, the proper accounts, the accounts that I eventually lost interest in because nobody was commenting or hitting me up to talk about things anymore.

At first I just tried to approach it like I did with other fandom platforms -- hit people up for conversations, reblog their shit, send them asks, chat them up, but most of those efforts have gone absolutely nowhere and/or have lead to people actively shunning me.

And y’know... it’s not hard for me to just write all of that up as “I’m just unpleasant, that’s why people don’t like me”. That’s not a stretch, that doesn’t get into the larger social dynamics of fandom, it concerns the one thing I actually have control over and for my entire life, that’s how I’ve improved at shit. People don’t like you because you’re bad, better yourself and they’ll like you.

But what with all the posts (not even conversations, b/c Tumblr is not a platform for conversations) about how the piss-poor feedback culture of modern fandom is doing damage to the broader fic-writing culture, it feels like it has to be more complicated than that. Because you’re absolutely right that the “value” of intellectual labour, of meta and analysis and fic, has fucking plummeted as the fandom culture has moved to become more passive, more about observing than about engaging. Previously, commenting was all you could do but now seeing and then maybe clicking like/kudos has become the norm.

And a part of me feels like I’m just a fucking dinosaur for not getting with the times and not making my stuff more quick and simple and fun and joining the shitposting parade, but that same part of me feels like I should just get serious about art and animation and get people interested that way, but neither of those would bring the sort of conversations and the sort of interaction I really miss.

Fandom has become an incredibly socially isolating experience for me, when it’s been my primary form of social interaction for over a decade at this point, but at the same time I don’t really see this happening to anyone else who’s been around for as long as I have and has the same kind of experience with fandom as I do, which then pushes me back into just thinking that it’s probably just my overall inability to be a functional human being that is causing this.

#van's answers #humxo #long post #I mean shit I use that tag b/c someone at some point told me they want text posts tagged so they don't have to see them #This thing I do #this talking about things #has just become an extremely unpopular thing to do #after I stopped writing fic I essentially lost my right to call myself a content creator #b/c the shit I do is just background noise to most people #And I've gone through so much fucking rejection in my life #that this shit happening feels just like my trash personality coming home to roost #not even the one place where my personality didn't matter as long as I had good things to say #is welcoming to me anymore #because personality and creation are the same fucking thing in the age of social media #I mean shit I got straight-up told that me NOT WANTING TO TALK ABOUT MY PERSONAL LIFE #meant to THEM that I didn't want to talk to them AT ALL #when I was actually really enjoying having conversations about fandom and stuff with them #and constantly felt like I was pushing too hard to have their attention #and I'm just #so fucking tired #because there is nothing about me that is worth discussing #but more and more #nobody wants to talk about the things that ARE worth discussing

[succorcreek]

George Orwell's 1984 Decodes Trump in 7 Articles You Need Today George Orwell's 1984 Decodes Trump in 7 Articles You Need Today Article 1 1. The New Yorker: 1984 and George Orwell I have Im afraid a terrible confession to make: I have never been a huge fan of George Orwells 1984. It always seemed in its extrapolations from present to future too pat a little lacking in the imaginative extrapolations we want from dystopian literature. As the British author Anthony Burgess pointed out a long time ago Orwells modern hell was basically a reproduction of British misery in the postwar rationing years with the malice of Stalins police-state style added on. That other ninth-grade classic Aldous Huxleys Brave New World where a permanent playground of sex and drugs persists in a fiercely inegalitarian society seemed to me far more prescient and so did any work of Philip K. Dicks that extrapolated forward our bizarre American entertainment obsessions into an ever more brutal future in whichKen and Barbie might be worshipped as gods. 1984 seemed in contrast too brutal too atavistic too limited in its imagination of the relation between authoritarian state and helpless citizens. rest of article: http://bit.ly/2gZS2sv 2. 1984 Book sales surge: A Book Decoder for Dystopian Trump CNN Watching me read "1984" arguably the greatest dystopian novel ever written in high school my mother told me that it was a book that everyone should read not just once but again every 10 years. It certainly deserves a reread right now. Alexander J. Urbelis Indeed dozens of news stories this week have alerted us to surging sales of George Orwell's "1984" since the inauguration and even more so in the wake of Kellyanne Conway's now-infamous "alternative facts" gambit. Most media outlets have reported glibly on the figures with some going so far as to compare the Amazon best-seller list (where purchases of "1984" have gone up nearly 10000%) to a "political barometer" before making the obvious parallel between the Orwellian concepts of newspeak and doublethink and the words of Conway....... more: .............. Donald Trump and doublethink In everything from his Cabinet appointments to the rationale for destabilizing executive orders President Trump appears to have taken a cue directly from "1984's" fictional ministries whose purposes are diametrically opposed to their names. Orwell's Ministry of Truth ("Minitrue" in newspeak) for example had nothing to do with truth but was responsible for the fabrication of historical facts. In that vein President Trump has provided us in the name of security with a travel ban on immigrants and refugees from countries whose citizens have caused the terrorism deaths of no Americans while leaving out countries whose citizens have caused the terrorism deaths of thousands of Americans. He has provided us with Betsy DeVos a secretary of education nominee who is widely believed to oppose public education and who promotes the truly Orwellian-sounding concept of "school choice" a plan that seems well-intentioned but which critics complain actually siphons much-needed funds from public to private education institutions. but see this power article with much more info at:http://cnn.it/2h0mz9z 3. 1984 a Bestseller again in the Age of Trump Key Concepts Revealed In the last 15 hours at time of writing George Orwells classic has moved from number 6 to number 1 on Amazons overall bestselling books list. The Guardian noted its placement at number 6 yesterday. The shift comes just days after White House press secretary Sean Spicer told assembled reporters a blatant lie about the size of crowds at Donald Trumps inauguration and after Trumps counselor Kellyanne Conway defended the untruth as alternative facts.http://bit.ly/2eL3My9 4. George Orwell's 1984 explains Trump: Doublespeak alternative facts and reality control A Guide to Trump Doublespeak The normalization of Donald Trump began in 1984: How George Orwells Newspeak has infected the news media (note: when this Blog began February 1 2017 in response to the Trump presidency one of the first things added to this site was the quote also cited here by Maya Angelou. See the topic cloud below for references to this article and print and post this and any photo quotes to put on your fridge post to your Facebook and send to those you love. Dr. Bunch) The poet Maya Angelou wisely observed Whenpeople show you who they arebelieve themthe first time. In keeping with his fascist and authoritarian beliefs during the 2016 presidential campaign Donald Trump threatened to sue members of the news media he did not like offered conspiracy theories that the media were somehow unfairly maligning his campaign called reporters scum and disgraceful and made reporters the objects of mockery and violence at his rallies. Trumps white nationalist supporters and other deplorables responded in kind yelling the Nazi chant Lügenpresse and Jew-S-A in roaring approval during his campaign events. President-elect Donald Trump is continuing his war on the free press with enemies lists a proposed expansion of slander and libel laws and threats to ban critics in the news media access to his administration. This should not be a surprise. In the United States the Fourth Estate is supposed to serve as a guardian for democracy a type of watchdog that helps members of the public make informed decisions and sounds the alarm on unchecked power and threats to the Constitution and the values it embodies. In this moment of crisis theAmerican corporate news media has been presented with a critical choice: Itcan normalize Trumps radical and dangerous anti-democratic behavior or it can stand up against it. full article at:http://bit.ly/2h0Lmu3 5. Welcome to dystopia George Orwell experts on Donald Trump Why is 1984 Number 1 sales Amazon.com? Experts on George Orwell Dystopia: A. Jean Seaton: The seeds were sown during the George W Bush era Reading George Orwells Nineteen Eighty-Four again now hurts. And Im not the only one to be revisiting it: sales of the book have soared in the past week. What you had previously thought you read at a cool intellectual distance (a great book about over there somewhere in the past or future) now feels intimate bitter and shocking. Orwell is writing of now when he writes Every year fewer and fewer words and the range of consciousness always a little smaller. Of course we all have to keep our heads (especially we have to keep our heads). The lies about the crowd size at Donald Trumps inauguration by the hapless White House spokesman Sean Spicer at his first briefing were not earth-shattering. But any lie from this podium is deeply unsettling. Any hopes that Trump or his team were underneath it all normal rightwingers have dissipated. The post-truth era certainly shares aspects of the dystopian world of Orwells Nineteen Eighty-Four. Michael Goves infamous comment that Britain has had enough of experts is just one step away from 22 = 5. In the interrogation scene in 1984 this is the most appalling moment: before now we read it as a ludicrous indictment of the rejection of reality (surely we conclude the party itself must know that 22 = 4; science machines all depend on it). In Nineteen Eighty-Four the elite personified by OBrien foster and control this willingness to believe one thing one day and one thing another. Now it seems the party itself may believe the lie. As Orwell writes: Science in the old sense had almost ceased to exist. In Newspeak there is no word for science. Sales of George Orwell's 1984 surge after Kellyanne Conway's 'alternative facts' Read more Then there is privacy Orwell puts the diary and the private self at the heart of his writing. In 1984 keeping a diary is Winstons first act of transgression. Orwell knew that authoritarian regimes want rest of article:http://bit.ly/2uWbBY8 6. George Orwell's 1984 explains Trump: Doublespeak alternative facts and reality control DONALD TRUMP was predicted in George Orwell's 1984 and sales of the book rocket over comparisons with doublespeak crimestop alternative facts and reality control. 7. Teaching 1984 to High School Seniors:My classroom becomes a totalitarian state every school year toward the end of October. In preparation for teaching 1984 to seniors I announce the launch of a new program aimed at combating senioritis a real disease with symptoms that include frequent unexplained absences indifferent reading and shoddy work. I tell each class that another class is largely to blame for the problem and require for a substantial participation grade that students file daily reports on another students work habits and conduct; most are assigned to another student in the same class. We blanket the campus in posters featuring my face and simple slogans that warn against the dangers of senioritis and declare my program the only solution to the schools woes. Last year my program was OSIP (Organization for Senior Improvement Project); this year its SAFE (Scholar Alliance For Excellence). We chant a creed at the start of each class celebrate the revelatory reports of heroes with cheers and boo those who fail to participate enthusiastically. I create a program Instagram that students eagerly follow. I occasionally bestow snacks as rewards.http://theatln.tc/2tA34X7 and 1984 on Broadway: Art mirroring Life the Lie and Liarshttp://bbc.in/2uWt2aR Click Here: Catalog of 100 Books Kindle Hypnosis Binaural Subliminal CDs 1984 alternate truths and alternate realities articles crimestop doublespeak dystopia george orwell reality control thrown under bus trump guide #trumpbully #stopbully #trumpmentalhealth http://bit.ly/2rZ1vSp

George Orwell's 1984

#narcissist abuse #psychopath abuse #trump bully #abuse recovery #ptsd #ptsd recovery #ptsd hypnosis

[succorcreek]

George Orwell's 1984 Decodes Trump in 7 Articles You Need Today

George Orwell's 1984 Decodes Trump in 7 Articles You Need Today Article 1 1. The New Yorker: 1984 and George Orwell  I have, I’m afraid, a terrible confession to make: I have never been a huge fan of George Orwell’s “1984.” It always seemed, in its extrapolations from present to future, too pat, a little lacking in the imaginative extrapolations we want from dystopian literature. As the British author Anthony Burgess pointed out a long time ago, Orwell’s modern hell was basically a reproduction of British misery in the postwar rationing years, with the malice of Stalin’s police-state style added on. That other ninth-grade classic, Aldous Huxley’s “Brave New World,” where a permanent playground of sex and drugs persists in a fiercely inegalitarian society, seemed to me far more prescient, and so did any work of Philip K. Dick’s that extrapolated forward our bizarre American entertainment obsessions into an ever more brutal future in which Ken and Barbie might be worshipped as gods. “1984” seemed, in contrast, too brutal, too atavistic, too limited in its imagination of the relation between authoritarian state and helpless citizens. rest of article: http://bit.ly/2gZS2sv 2.  1984 Book sales surge: A Book Decoder for Dystopian Trump CNN  Watching me read "1984," arguably the greatest dystopian novel ever written, in high school, my mother told me that it was a book that everyone should read not just once, but again, every 10 years. It certainly deserves a reread right now.

Alexander J. Urbelis

Indeed, dozens of news stories this week have alerted us to surging sales of George Orwell's "1984" since the inauguration and even more so in the wake of Kellyanne Conway's now-infamous "alternative facts" gambit. Most media outlets have reported glibly on the figures, with some going so far as to compare the Amazon best-seller list (where purchases of "1984" have gone up nearly 10,000%) to a "political barometer" before making the obvious parallel between the Orwellian concepts of newspeak and doublethink and the words of Conway....... more:  ..............

Donald Trump and doublethink

In everything from his Cabinet appointments to the rationale for destabilizing executive orders, President Trump appears to have taken a cue directly from "1984's" fictional ministries, whose purposes are diametrically opposed to their names. Orwell's Ministry of Truth ("Minitrue" in newspeak), for example, had nothing to do with truth but was responsible for the fabrication of historical facts.

In that vein, President Trump has provided us, in the name of security, with a travel ban on immigrants and refugees from countries whose citizens have caused the terrorism deaths of no Americans, while leaving out countries whose citizens have caused the terrorism deaths of thousands of Americans.

He has provided us with Betsy DeVos, a secretary of education nominee who is widely believed to oppose public education, and who promotes the truly Orwellian-sounding concept of "school choice," a plan that seems well-intentioned but which critics complain actually siphons much-needed funds from public to private education institutions.

but, see this power article with much more info at: http://cnn.it/2h0mz9z 3. 1984 a Bestseller again, in the Age of Trump Key Concepts Revealed    In the last 15 hours, at time of writing, George Orwell’s classic has moved from number 6 to number 1 on Amazon’s overall bestselling books list. The Guardian noted its placement at number 6 yesterday. The shift comes just days after White House press secretary Sean Spicer told assembled reporters a blatant lie about the size of crowds at Donald Trump’s inauguration, and after Trump’s counselor Kellyanne Conway defended the untruth as “alternative facts.” http://bit.ly/2eL3My9 4. George Orwell's 1984 explains Trump: Doublespeak, alternative facts and reality control

A Guide to Trump Doublespeak

The normalization of Donald Trump began in “1984”: How George Orwell’s Newspeak has infected the news media

  (note: when this Blog began February 1 2017 in response to the Trump presidency, one of the first things added to this site was the quote also cited here by Maya Angelou. See the topic cloud below for references to this article, and print and post this and any photo quotes to put on your fridge, post to your Facebook, and send to those you love. Dr. Bunch)

The poet Maya Angelou wisely observed, “When people show you who they are, believe them the first time.” In keeping with his fascist and authoritarian beliefs, during the 2016 presidential campaign, Donald Trump threatened to sue members of the news media he did not like, offered conspiracy theories that “the media” were somehow unfairly maligning his campaign, called reporters “scum” and “disgraceful” and made reporters the objects of mockery and violence at his rallies. Trump’s white nationalist supporters and other deplorables responded in kind, yelling the Nazi chant “Lügenpresse” and “Jew-S-A” in roaring approval during his campaign events. President-elect Donald Trump is continuing his war on the free press with enemies lists, a proposed expansion of slander and libel laws and threats to ban critics in the news media access to his administration. This should not be a surprise. In the United States, the Fourth Estate is supposed to serve as a guardian for democracy, a type of watchdog that helps members of the public make informed decisions and sounds the alarm on unchecked power and threats to the Constitution and the values it embodies. In this moment of crisis, the American corporate news media has been presented with a critical choice: It can normalize Trump’s radical and dangerous anti-democratic behavior or it can stand up against it. full article at: http://bit.ly/2h0Lmu3 5. Welcome to dystopia – George Orwell experts on Donald Trump Why is 1984 Number 1 sales Amazon.com?

Experts on George Orwell, Dystopia:

A. Jean Seaton: The seeds were sown during the George W Bush era

Reading George Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty-Four again, now, hurts. And I’m not the only one to be revisiting it: sales of the book have soared in the past week. What you had previously thought you read at a cool, intellectual distance (a great book about “over there”, somewhere in the past or future) now feels intimate, bitter and shocking. Orwell is writing of now when he writes, “Every year fewer and fewer words, and the range of consciousness always a little smaller.” Of course, we all have to keep our heads (especially we have to keep our heads). The lies about the crowd size at Donald Trump’s inauguration by the hapless White House spokesman Sean Spicer at his first briefing were not earth-shattering. But any lie from this podium is deeply unsettling. Any hopes that Trump or his team were, underneath it all, “normal” rightwingers, have dissipated. The post-truth era certainly shares aspects of the dystopian world of Orwell’s Nineteen Eighty-Four. Michael Gove’s infamous comment that Britain has had enough of experts is just one step away from 2+2 = 5. In the interrogation scene in 1984 this is the most appalling moment: before now we read it as a ludicrous indictment of the rejection of reality (surely, we conclude, the party itself must know that 2+2 = 4; science, machines all depend on it). In Nineteen Eighty-Four, the elite, personified by O’Brien, foster and control this willingness to believe one thing one day, and one thing another. Now, it seems, the party itself may believe the lie. As Orwell writes: “Science, in the old sense, had almost ceased to exist. In Newspeak there is no word for science.”

Sales of George Orwell's 1984 surge after Kellyanne Conway's 'alternative facts'

Read more

Then there is privacy – Orwell puts the diary and the private self at the heart of his writing. In 1984, keeping a diary is Winston’s first act of transgression. Orwell knew that authoritarian regimes want rest of article: http://bit.ly/2uWbBY8 6. George Orwell's 1984 explains Trump: Doublespeak, alternative facts and reality control

DONALD TRUMP was predicted in George Orwell's 1984 and sales of the book rocket over comparisons with doublespeak, crimestop, alternative facts and reality control.

7.   Teaching 1984 to High School Seniors:

My classroom becomes a totalitarian state every school year toward the end of October. In preparation for teaching 1984 to seniors, I announce the launch of a new program aimed at combating senioritis, a real disease with symptoms that include frequent unexplained absences, indifferent reading, and shoddy work. I tell each class that another class is largely to blame for the problem and require, for a substantial participation grade, that students file daily reports on another student’s work habits and conduct; most are assigned to another student in the same class. We blanket the campus in posters featuring my face and simple slogans that warn against the dangers of senioritis and declare my program the only solution to the school’s woes. Last year, my program was OSIP (Organization for Senior Improvement Project); this year, it’s SAFE (Scholar Alliance For Excellence). We chant a creed at the start of each class, celebrate the revelatory reports of “heroes” with cheers, and boo those who fail to participate enthusiastically. I create a program Instagram that students eagerly follow. I occasionally bestow snacks as rewards.

http://theatln.tc/2tA34X7 and, 1984 on Broadway: Art mirroring Life, the Lie and Liars http://bbc.in/2uWt2aR

Click Here: Catalog of 100 Books, Kindle, Hypnosis Binaural Subliminal CDs

via Blogger http://bit.ly/2vGsTGA #trumppirate #trumpgangster

#trumpmental trumpmentalhealth trumpdisorder trumpwolf trumpgangster