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ruby thing pt.1

"Aw, fuck, I did it again. Sorry." She takes her hand off my knee. "This is what happens when I get too comfortable..."

"No, no, it's fine, really. I liked it." I'm not sure she believes me. "What's wrong?"

"I killed the mood again. I got...nostalgic, I guess."

"For Rick?"

"I don't know." She knew. "I just...I want to do well by the people I like. You know?"

"You didn't breach a layer of trust or anything. I was just confused, I guess. Nobody does the hand-on-the-knee thing to me."

"...You serious? God, guy like you, I'd think you'd have no problems at all."

"You know how I operate. It doesn't get chicks."

"You have one of those faces, though, y'know? The kind that'd be handsome if it were just...attached to anybody else."

"Oh. Thanks."

"Look, I'm not good at...words. You know that."

"Don't deny yourself. You work at a newspaper. You wouldn't be an associate editor if you weren't good at words."

"I mean, that's fair, but...I have white-out at work. You can't white-out something you've said."

"Maybe that's what makes talking to you so damn interesting. I get the real, unfiltered you, unedited, unrevised. The first thing to your mind is the thing you say. You don't spend hours revising and changing it first."

"...Y'know, Bass, I don't think you really grasp it."

"Grasp what?"

"I don't...look, this isn't easy. The revising and shit? THat still happens, it just happens in my head, really fast, and I don't get to write it down first. You ever try to do math in your head? It's kinda like that."

"...I guess."

"So don't go...fooling yourself...or whatever."

ruby thing pt.2: the fashioning

Ruby's manner of dress:

1. Tank tops. Always has one on, because she's more comfortable using that for support than a bra, half the time.

2. The white blouse she wears is a men's small long-sleeved shirt. She prefers neutral colors; white works best, light grey works better.

3. The vest is also a men's vest; she doesn't like the snug fit of vests meant for women. The overall effect is that her top looks a little baggy, but not by much. It's not flattering to her form, but she doesn't have a lot of form to begin with.

3. Her slacks are women's slacks; she prefers browns and tans for that. Never pressed, because she wears them all the time anyway.

4. Socks: Ankle socks, generally black. Buys them in bulk and uses them for everything. Has a hell of a time getting the black marks off her feet in the shower.

5. Shoes: Loafers. She can't stand heels, and sneakers aren't professional enough. Loafers work because they work almost eerywhere. Such is the motivation behind most of her outfit, really.

6. Hair: Low-maintenance. She'd cut it short if she thought she could get away with it; she usually has it loosely pony-tailed because a tighter tail hurts her head and she's never been that great at hair tying.

7. Hat: Dark brown argyle cnap-brim hat. Technically a man's hat, but it fits her just fine. It used to be Rick's, but he gave it to her as a keepsake not long before they cut all contact. It's kind of amazing that she keeps it despite not acknowledging that they broke their elationship on good terms, but it's the only hat she really owns, and it's nice for the rainier days (which is 75% of the year in the Pacific Southeast).

?. Overwear: The nicest article of clothing she owns is a grey wool pea coat. It's very slightly tight on her, but it works.

genie thing

"What is it that you desire? Tell me." The visage of the great Genie loomed almost a hundred feet above him. By most rights, she wouldn't have fit. Fortunately, Alvin was standing on the roof of one of the tallest apartment high-rises in the city.

Alvin stammered trying to think of anything to say. "I...uh...come again?"

"Perhaps I misspoke. You have desires, yes? Tell them to me and I shall grant them."

"Well, it's just that...I feel like you're putting me on the spot. I can't just think of a great thing I want and tell you right away, these things need a lot of prior planning and careful wording. To say nothing of what restrictions and terms apply."

The Genie folded her arms, placing one hand to her cheek. "The world today, I swear."

"I'm sorry?"

"The last time I was released from my lamp...I'm terribly sorry, what year is it?"

"Two thousand eighteen," replied Alvin, having had to think about it a moment.

"It would have been fifteen-hundred years ago. People didn't tend to think things through nearly as carefully, and they were more up-front about what they wanted."

"But how many actually got what they wanted?" Alvin didn't intend his question to be so biting, but he couldn't contain the curiosity.

"To tell the truth, not many. But that might be more because they hadn't spoken clearly enough, or perhaps it'd be because my competition had so sullied the profession that nobody was willing to trust me with anything more important."

"Profession? I thought you genies were considered slaves."

"Slaves to the lamp, perhaps. Even I couldn't tell you why. But it does come with benefits. Room and board are all spoken for, primarily, and the costume really does breathe well during the summer months." She playfully brushed a hand down one of the silk sleeves.

rick ruby thing

Rick looked as if he wanted to say something. I guess he was waiting to see what Ruby did first. All I could really do was watch. It was a bit like...introducing two cats to each other, really. On a good day, they'd just sniff and be cautious. If you're not lucky, you get hissing and clawing. I'd hoped it'd be the former.

Ruby was the first to talk. "Rick. I, uh, have things I gotta say to you." I've never known Ruby to be this careful with her words.

"I think I do too, but you prob'ly better go first."

"Was hoping you'd say that. If I know you like I think I used to, you're probably wondering which version to give me, depending on how I make my approach. Right?"

"Yeah."

"Well, this oughta make it easier on you. I'm sorry."

"You're sorry? ...Wait, huh? I didn't plan for that..."

"Or...maybe I just made it way harder for you. Damn it." She takes off the snap-brim hat. "Y'know, I've had a dam long time to mull over the way our relationship turned out. Who was at fault, or even IF anybody was. All I can really figure is that it doesn't matter who did what or even anything at all. I just want to give you a damn apology."

"What are you even apologizing for? I was the asshole back then. It oughta be me."

"And I'm not sayin' it can't be you who says he's sorry. I just...I feel like I was definitely not as innocent as I wanted to feel like, y'know?" Ruby scratches the back of her neck with her free hand. "Whatever you're guilty of, I went right along with it. And whether that's from me being young and gullible or if I just had a void I needed filling...and I know what joke you're wanting to make, so just get it out of your system."

"I kinda don't want to now that you've said that." Rick's eyes are wide open for once. I don't usually see him NOT squinting.

"Dammit, you're the one that was always going on about shooting blanks..."

"I know, Ruby, but I also know now's not the time."

"...I'm sorry. I never seem to remember you have a serious side." She sniffs a bit. "Maybe that's where I fucked up."

"Nah, going by your logic, it was both of us. Remember the time we got caught by that beat cop?"

"Seem to remember it was your idea to park there."

"Yeah, yeah, my idea entirely..." He barely holds in a chuckle. "Y'know, we had some great times. What happened to that?"

"I think that's exactly why I wanted to come apologize to you, Rick. I'm the reason that those times stopped. I got selfish."

"No, the Ruby I know was *always* selfish. This wasn't selfishness. This was you trying to be responsible for yourself."

"I think you might be right. But I do still think I was the one that fucked up."

"No, we both did. But y'know, even after you quit seeing me, that didn't mean I wasn't still rootin' for you."

"How's that?"

"A few well-placed favors here and there, a few elements at play, a bit of careful reconnaissance..."

"You've been spying on me?"

"Nah, not as such. I just know a few people in a few places, just by happenstance. Principal among them of course is this guy right here." Rick points right at me. "On that note, how ya doin', Bass?"

"Bass, you're spying on me?"

"No no no, Ruby, not spying," Rick bounces back. "More like...you know that taxi cab guru thing you said about me?"

"Huh. I always wondered if you kept doing that."

"He's been askin' for advice here and there. It's uh, I don't think he ever mentioned your name. Just talked about you. Kinda vague but I knew it was you."

I felt a bit less on-the-spot now. I had a feeling Rick was a guy I could trust, and even though he did just blow my cover, he somehow did it in a way that...made me look better than I really was?

Ruby, meanwhile, was giving me that confused look. Like she couldn't quite tell if I could be trusted. "Come to think of it, I always wondered if you were really acting on your own whims. Some of the shit you were doing for me at the office was, well, pretty Rick-like."

"I dunno what you're talking about." I pleaded the fifth.

mage detective thing

"Oy, are you done yet? I got a bloody watch to get back to and I ain't as like to let a whelp of a spellbeggar like yourself to keep me from it." The Guardsman never once let his gaze wander from the robed man in the room. There was just no trusting a mage like that, he'd said before, but it was Guard Captain Montag's insistence that kept them here to start with. "There's naught to find, no matter how you search," he added.

"I'll thank you to stay quiet while I'm working," said Randulf. There was a peculiar...vibration, he supposed, coming from the back corner of this improvised hovel. It'd been a storehouse for a nearby tavern, but nothing tavern-related had been stored here for the last year. The room had been filled with everything from withered saplings to slightly pretty rocks (pretty, but not valuable). The victim, not sprawled in typical corpse-like fashion but seemingly already laid out as if in a coffin, was right in front of the only door. Yet, some kind of energy was coming from the opposite end of the building, from the inside of a crate that the victim had been sleeping in. The victim's own life force, perhaps? No, the victim is dead, Randulf told himself. If this is anybody's life force, it's more likely to be someone else's.

"You found something? Or are you making that face 'cause you're coming up with a good story for the Captain?" The Guardsman's eyes were largely hidden behind the visor of his helmet - the only proper armor the city's guards tended to have - but Randulf could tell he must have been rolling them impatiently. "Come on, then, you spent enough time in this rat hole. Let's get you back to the Captain so I can go watch someone who's like to actually do something."

"If that's the way you feel, Guardsman, I expect you won't be likely to listen the next time I tell you I've caught you a murderer." Randulf rolled up the sleeves of his robe, revealing the tattoo-like markings up his forearms. "No, I've found a curious energy here. The victim, there, you've already checked that he's dead, yes?" The Guardsman only nodded in reply. "What I find curious, though...usually the recently departed leave some shred of their life force behind, close by their mortal form. It's how High Priests and Chosen are able to revive fallen comrades."

"That never sat well with me," the Guardsman said.

"Yes, I gathered you weren't a particularly spiritual type." Randulf swept his tattooed arms slowly about the empty crate, as if to feel something that wasn't there. "But no. Whoever murdered the man over there--" Randulf gestured towards the corpse with his head, as his arms were busy-- "either did it long enough ago that his spirit has already departed this plane, or more likely, was so thorough as to kill his spirit as well as his body." Randulf's right arm stopped, as if being pulled to that specific point in space. "Hmph. This is interesting."

"What's interesting? It sure ain't interesting ME!"

"To be fair, Guardsman, you don't seem to be interested in much beyond hitting things with truncheons." He focused as hard as he could on that specific spot. "It's as I thought a moment ago. This is someone ELSE'S spirit. Someone who isn't in this room."

"Eh?"

"I didn't think I'd be so likely to see it used in a murder...body-swapping is difficult magic at best. But our victim - if he even IS a victim - isn't the owner of this spirit. Which means, barring usage of soul-vessels or the like, we've got this spirit's body walking around with the dead body's spirit inside it. Someone's either very confused, or trying to fake their own death."

"Well, tell it to the Captain. You done now?"

"As done as I can be, I fear." Randulf wrested his arm away from its strange pulling sensation and unrolled his sleeves. He scrawled a quick note in his tome and nodded to his accompaniment. "I'd best make my report. If Captain Montag is as receptive as you've been, I doubt that'll take long."

Ideas and general spitballing

A better way to handle synthfire

Okay. So, currently the way zdoom weapons are handled, the animation and the action functions are extremely tightly coupled to each other. This creates a mess and plays hell with things like changing the rate of fire on anything. So here's an alternate proposal:

• Tuck all the things essential to the FUNCTION of the weapon into their own overlay state. Call that overlay on its own layer. Do not give it any duration. Here's where you'd fire all the pellets, eject the smoke, eject the shell.
• From THAT overlay, call another overlay SOLELY FOR THE RECOIL ANIMATION. We can do some nice things with math and trig in order to ease it and tween it smoothly over a given duration, I would think. When calling this recoil overlay, call it on a new overlay layer each time so that they add together nicely and will always reset back to the original angle/pitch (if we're careful).
• The weapon's native states all display TNT1A0. They're blank.
• The weapon's actual appearance is on its own overlay. We're careful to always ensure that the weapon's overlay is always the same number and is never the topmost one (so muzzle flashes and other nice effects can go over the top of it).
• When the weapon fires, the weapon graphic overlay is instructed to recoil. This is purely A_WeaponOffset trickery, we can do more nice math and trig to tween it around smoothly. We'll always run the graphic recoil on the same layer, so it'll work additively and make a nice effect on automatics.
• The weapon's native fire state is never more tics than needed for limiting fire rate. This can then be very easily changed - for upgrades or balance purposes.
• All this adds together to have an even cooler effect: with the fire and altfire states being only 1 tic long, and just keeping track of the "readiness" status of the weapon very carefully, we could have synthfire (for semi-automatic weapons only) without even needing the ACS script hackery.

A Non-Combat RPG

You are a new Lord of the realm. Your station is not especially high; your influence only affects ordinary citizens, and you still answer to the other Lords, the Senate, and the King, but you have influence nonetheless. The one catch: your legs have never worked. Whether through birth defect, disease, or childhood injury, you cannot go anywhere under your own power. In order to travel places, you need the assistance of your entourage. While this means you are protected everywhere you go, the entourage does not come cheap, and requires enough planning in advance that you can only realistically leave the castle once a day. At night, you may choose a study topic out of your library, increasing the skill of your choice by one point (or more). Skills influence available dialogue choices, a la New Vegas.

The Tangerine Dream Heist

An Ocean's Eleven-style heist operation...where every character and location just happens to be named after a Tangerine Dream album.

• Atem is the Leading Man, the brains of the operation.
• Phaedra is his ex-love interest.
• Le Parc is the eccentric gadgeteer.
• Melrose is the face-man.
• White Eagle is the ex-SAS recon/intel man.
• Tyger is your Leverage-style "hitter."
• Sorcerer is your computer guy.
• And Force Majeure is their mysterious benefactor that gives the orders.
• Their job is to case a trio of casino resorts called Lily On The Beach, Stratosfear, and Green Desert.

"This is why life blows" story

[23:06:10] <wildweasel> an adventurer is about to defeat an evil lord, but towards the end of the battle he's mortally wounded as he kills the lord. the adventurer finds himself alive after blacking out for a while. when he enters town, people fear him, and he consults a priest to find what his problem is - turns out, he did die, and his ghost inhabited the evil lord's body, in the lord's last ditch effort to stay alive himself
[23:06:39] <ContraVania> Hmm... creepy.  
[23:06:40] <wildweasel> the adventurer finds that he is sharing the body with a small scrap of the lord's soul, which implores him on occasion to do nasty things to the people he loves
[23:07:02] <ContraVania> This premise sounds vaguely familiar, but original enough that I'm unable to match it to anything.
[23:07:46] <wildweasel> he finally finds someone who can purge the extra soul from his body, but unbeknownst to the adventurer, the person in question is the wizard who helped the lord attune his body in such a way in the first place
[23:08:32] <wildweasel> the wizard lives up to his promise to "purge the extra soul" - that soul ends up being the adventurer's, and the lord's body survives to build his strength and make a future attempt at world domination
[23:09:03] <wildweasel> i don't know why i called this idea a fairy tale
[23:09:23] <ContraVania> It's a very good "this is why life blows" story.  lol