Writer's Block: The Voiding

 

The Voiding

Behold! Here we have a neighborhood just like any other in future America. Look at this house, with its peeling skin of flesh-colored siding revealing the rotten frame beneath. The truck in front is a rusted hunk of metal leaking black crude slowly onto the pavement to congeal in the storm drain like drying blood. The wind blows and rustles the garbage on the sidewalk, giving flight to plastic bags and paper wrappers. If you stand and watch the windows, you see nothing but darkness, no matter how long you linger. In the back yard, playground equipment sags askew, the tangled chains of a swing moving slightly in the breeze. You think of the little people who should be out there, swinging in the sunlight, giving voice to their merriment, but there is no sign that they exist anymore.

Across the street lies a school, its teal windows shut and locked. A robot kicks on suddenly, a small disk-shaped thing that resembles a pill bug, and it begins its systematic routine, cutting grass almost silently like the ghostly spirit of past janitors long ago replaced. A raccoon rummages in a trashcan only to emerge empty-handed; it considers the robot for a few moments before scurrying down the street, brazen in its lack of fear. You observe the pill bug—maybe it will finally die after all of these years—but it keeps on going somehow, a vestige of a more living past.

What is the past you think as your boots tread the split sidewalk. It is your memory—it lives in your imagination, in the pictures and emotions you carry inside your mind. It is the state of death, of things lost and consumed, and it is supposed to be dead but you see it as you walk through the neighborhood, witnessing the signs. Suddenly in the window of a derelict house you see light flickering on, so you stop and peer through the dusty panes of glass. From what you can see, the carpet is the color of mold, mossy with decay, the recliner with its back you similarly discolored and diseased. A flat panel mounted onto the wall has turned on, triggered, perhaps, by your passing. A human face moves on the screen—oh my god, she looks so young you think—her ruby lips parting to mouth words you cannot hear or understand. You stand transfixed by this golden-hair siren. She has an object in her hands, a little piece of plastic, and she keeps gesticulating toward it as though touting its obvious benefits. What can she be attempting to convey to you? You don’t understand. Around you is the dead dream of a million minds and this is the specter they send? You can’t accept that it is meaningless, that everything around you moves only to decay. You pounds on the glass and shout. What is that voice? Why does it cause the hairs to stand up on your neck? Have you awoken the dead? Will they come seeking vengeance?

As fast as you can you flee, the echo of your own steps in pursuit.

Video Game Review: Slay The Spire 2 (Early Access)

 

Slay The Spire 2 is the sequel to one of my favorite games of all time. Mega Crit have kept the formula the same--this is an iterative sequel to the deck-building rougelike original--but there's enough new variety to keep things fresh and just as addictive as the first game. The Ironclad, Silent, and Defect return, along with new characters the Necrobinder and the Regent. New cards have been added for the original trio along with a new mechanic for each. For example, the Silent now draws cards that have Sly, which means if they are discarded, they play for free. This makes drawing and discarding really powerful for her, along with the usual Shiv and Poison cards. The Defect has new Glass orbs that damage all enemies but lose power quickly and are not affected by Focus. Losing health is now very powerful for the Ironclad in conjunction with Rupture because there are so many cards that lose HP now, making Rupture the main way to quickly gain strength. As for the new characters, the Necrobinder is my favorite and perhaps the most powerful. She has a minion named Osty who takes hits for her as well as deals out damage. The Necrobinder can play cards that have Summon which gain health for Osty, and many of its damage cards increase their output based on its health. She also has a mechanic called Doom, which accumulates like Poison, but instead of taking health off per turn, Doom will only kill an enemy when it fills up the enemy's health bar. The Regent can Forge a Cosmic Sword to do increasing damage, as well as mine another resource called Stars. He's been my toughest character to master so far, as I've found his cards to be rather feast or famine.

    As for the game's progression, it's still a roguelike with three acts, with the final fourth act still in development. The first act can vary between a jungle and a seaside dock, with six possible bosses, while the second act takes place in a desert, and the third in the experimental halls of the Spire. I've found most of the bosses pretty good. My least favorite is the Queen, who binds many of your cards, letting you only play one per turn. The improved animation and effects are very welcome, and unlike the original, Slay the Spire 2 is a pretty game, even if you could run it on anything. Groups of enemies are more frequent, making it important to choose cards that hit everybody at once. There are more varied random encounters and way more enemies in all. The balance seems really good so far, although a few enemies, like the Hunter Killer that turns up in act two, could probably use a nerf or get turned into Elites. There's a ton of content here, far more than the first game. Having beat the third act with every character, I can say that for twenty-five dollars, I don't think you'll play a better game this year. I say this as someone who had no experience with deck builders before playing Slay the Spire. Don't even watch the trailer--just get this game. 

  

Writer's Block: Eat The Rich

 

Eat The Rich Before They Eat You

Bill Isenburg entered his suite and let out a sigh. It had been a long day full of virtual meetings, and the extended luncheon with the Prime Minister of Sweden had exhausted his energies, which he had been unable to recover even after an hour long massage and top-off. A quick glance into the bedroom revealed his wife resting on the enormous bed, her voluptuous figure almost a caricature, a living cartoon. There was no point at this stage of his life denying what he wanted—he wanted everything and he wanted more of it—and when he had married her after leaving his first wife, he’d saw no reason to keep the straight-laced stiff image. He was the richest man in the world, so why not act like it? He was currently wearing a pair of leather pants and a leopard-patterned swinger shirt that billowed around his muscled physique, enhanced the last few years through testosterone replacement therapy and weight-training. What he needed right now was a little bit of a nap or maybe some cocaine, but first he’d choke down a health elixir made from kale and protein powder and then he’d have a little drink and make a decision on whether he wanted to continue the night or wind down.

Having managed to finish the disgusting concoction and then retreated to the bar, he was in the process of pouring himself a long shot of Scotch when he felt the distinct feeling of being observed. He knew instinctively that it was not his wife, so as subtly as he could he tried to push the emergency button on his smart watch. A cold, clammy hand clamped down on his, extraordinary strong, and he suddenly felt himself being launched into the air to land hard on the floor. The ceiling seemed to rock back and forth, and Isenburg felt himself being lifted again, this time into a chair where someone bound his hands with cord behind his back.

“That’s good. Now you can’t cause any trouble,” said a woman’s voice.

Looking across into the bar’s mirror, Isenburg saw nobody, even though the woman sounded as though she was right behind him.

“Who are you?” he asked, spitting blood out of his mouth.

“Don’t spit anymore blood out,” she said, her voice straining. “I can’t stand it, and this will be over quicker than it should.”

“The code to the safe is 8745,” he said. “There’s a lot of cash in there, along with a pistol. Just take it and leave.”

“I don’t want any money,” she said, laughing. “Those days are over, unfortunately. Would’ve come in handy in the past, of course. But I don’t need your bloody cash now.”

“Why can’t I see you?” he asked.

“Oh you want to see me, huh? I’ll let you have a glimpse.”

She swung her head in front of his, and Isenburg pushed back into his chair in shock. Her hair was matted and wet, and her skin was as ghastly pale as a corpse, but her eyes were vivid red and her teeth were sharp and protruding like the fangs of a predatory beast.

“I didn’t know if I could come aboard this ship, this ridiculous super yacht, but apparently no invitation was required. This doesn’t qualify as a home, I suppose. Who makes these rules? Hell if I know. There’s so much I don’t know, though.”

“What do you want?” Isenburg asked.

“What do I want? Beside peace, love, and understanding? I want to go back in time. That’s what most people would really want, not all of this ostentatious, vulgar wealth. They’d want to go back in time when they could fix things. But that’s not possible, not unless you got a time machine around here. You don’t, do you, Bill? At this point, I’d believe almost anything.”

He wondered suddenly if she knew about his wife in the next room. He must have glanced that way, since her eyes looked toward the bedroom before returning to focus on him.

“Oh don’t worry about her. She’s taking a long nap. She’ll be out for a while. I mean a long time.”

She smiled then, and Isenburg wondered what was wrong with this woman and what sort of bizarre dental surgery surgery she must have undertaken to have such a toothy denture.

“Do you care about her, Bill, or is she just another object to possess? A fetish in more than one sense? How much did all those enhancements cost? Pocket change for somebody like you, right?”

“Listen, there are hidden cameras and microphones in this room recording all of this. You don’t have much time. Just leave and they might not shoot you on sight.”

“Again with the negotiating, Bill! I’m not one of your corporate whores to be tossed scraps like a dog. Your security team is in pretty bad shape. Some of them are suffering from torn limbs, broken necks, loss of bodily fluids. What you need to be worried about right now is yourself, not me.”

She grabbed a chair and pulled it in front of him, and sat down, hunched forward. He could see the stained blood all over her fingers and the front of her tattered white shirt. She stared at him with those red eyes and again revealed all of her jagged teeth.

“Let me tell you my story. We have time. I was once a dutiful little software engineer plugging away at one of your subsidiaries. I was one of the people that kept your web server business running. Long hours but good pay. Nice benefits. A profit making branch of your massive conglomerate. So I’d been working for years, missed many a birthday, lost a couple relationships, but I’d stuck by the job and my performance review was coming up. We just had a successful roll out of the new cloud hosting servers, and I expected to be well-compensated. I had a nice little house picked out in one of the best suburbs in San Francisco. My boyfriend, who was also a computer engineer, was planning on proposing that night. What I’d worked hard for, what I’d sacrificed my youth for, was about to bear fruit. I walked into that review confident, radiant, smiling from ear to ear like an idiot. I see that manager sitting across from me, a dour expression on his face, and my confidence slips, but just a little. There was no way I wasn’t getting promoted. But then he opens his mouth and says ‘I’m sorry, but we’re going to have to let you go.’ ‘What?’ I exclaim. ‘It’s has nothing to do with your performance,” he explains. “We’re letting the entire senior engineering team go. Orders from up top. They think that the language-learning machines can do your job. Frankly, I don’t agree, but you know how it is.’”

“I did not know how it was, Bill. I knew that they were replacing people with AI, but I didn’t think it would come for me, not in my moment of triumph. As I walked home that evening, I got a call from the hospital. My boyfriend had also been fired, and in his dejection, he had neglected to pay attention when he crossed the street. He died before I could even get to him. And guess what? His company was also a subsidiary of yours, Bill! I didn’t even realize it until after he died. Do you know who issued the vast directive to destroy the lives of hard-working people like my boyfriend and I? You, Bill Isenberg! You and your billionaire cronies who need more money even though you're richer than literal nations.”

She placed one of her lean, emaciated hands on Isenburg’s bald pate.

“I always wanted to do this,” she admitted, rubbing his head. “Do you think there’s any luck for me? Or is it all for you? After being fired and losing my partner, I drove out to the Golden Gate bridge in the early morning and planned to jump into those icy waters. I parked near one of those old World War Two gun bunkers that line the hillsides around the Bay. I was just starting to walk toward the bridge when I saw someone in the derelict fortification. I just noticed his hand, long and skeletal like these” —she held up her claws—“the first two fingers pinching a cigarette, which glowed in the early darkness of the morning. A suicidal urge made me approach. Maybe it would be better, I thought, to be strangled inside a bunker rather than flail in the cold darkness of the Bay. But he didn’t strangle me. When I looked at him, I could tell what he was. He saw I was desperate, and he made me into what you would call a monster. Do you know what a revenant is, Bill? It’s an undead, vengeful spirit. I am the vengeance of all the people you’ve fucked over in your ridiculous life. Did you really think you could live so large and leave so little for the rest of us? Did you think one man was meant to hold the power and wealth that you possess? You break all of the natural laws of the universe. And so I guess it’s time that we do so as well.”

She opened her mouth of jagged teeth and cold, festering death poured out onto Bill Isenberg’s face. But I’m so rich he thought as she eased closer toward him. I can never die.

The door burst open and Isenberg saw something emerge from the monster’s torso. Is that a stake? She slumped forward, red eyes wide with surprise. A faint death croak whispered something that he didn’t bother to hear as he shook her off of him with disgust.

“Christ, what took you so long?” he complained. “Untie me.”

A hulking security officer walked toward him, brandishing a crossbow. In a moment, he had freed Isenburg, and the billionaire stood up, massaging his wrists.

“Apologies, sir. She incapacitated most of our team. Thankfully, we had a prior warning from our intelligence branch that a vampire was targeting men of your economic stature.”

He displayed the crossbow but Isenberg had no interest in examining it.

“Vampire? What do we do with it?”

“It’ll have to be decapitated and burned,” said the officer. “Are you all right, sir? Did she bite you?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “We’re not going to dispose of the body. I want her secured and taken to one of our science labs. I’ll make the calls. You just make sure she can’t escape.”

He watched as the security officer put the vampire in handcuffs and dragged her from his quarters. Isenberg went back to the bar and poured himself a nice shot of Scotch. Maybe he really was too rich to die. Maybe inside that walking corpse was the secret to immortality.

“Damn, it’s good to be me,” he said before the whiskey burned his throat.

“Did you say something, honey?” croaked a voice.

He turned around and saw his wife in the doorway of the bedroom, her throat a jagged mess of exposed flesh, her chest stained red.

“Alicia…” he stammered.

“Don’t I look pretty?” she wheezed. “Tell me I’m pretty, Bill. I can’t see myself. Why can’t I see myself?”

“You look…” managed Isenberg.

She held up her hands which were now long, skeletal claws. Her eyes were vivid red, and as she tried to scream, she revealed a mouth of gleaming white fangs.

“Why am I so goddamn thirsty?” she moaned. “Is this how you feel, Bill? Are you always thirsty for more? I am insatiable. I feel as though I could drink the blood of millions. Did you hear me, Bill? I said I could drink blood!”

“Just wait a minute, honey, let me call someone,” he said.

He thought he might be able to make it to the door, but she lunged and seized him, and suddenly he was on the floor and she was on top, a grotesque perversion of the female form, and as she tore his throat out he wondered how this could be happening to him, the ego, the self that threatened to swallow the world. I’m too rich… he tried, but then the world was black and there was nothing but the icy void to stretch his meager spirit into nothingness.

New Music: On The Edge Of A Cliff

 

Took me ages to get the vocals right on this track. I had to rewrite the melody because I couldn't sing in the higher register without it sounding thin and reedy. I think this track has one of my better guitar solos. Used a real bass on this one as opposed to my pitchfork lowering my guitar. 

Three Quick Video Game Reviews: Expedition 33: Clair Obscur; Doom 3; Metroid Prime Remastered

 

Clair Obscur: This game truly is worth of all the accolades it received last year. A turn-based JRPG created by French studio Sandfall Interactive, Expedition 33 has great combat, incredible graphics, and a gripping story that you'll want to see through, even though the twist that comes at the end of the second act is controversial. In the world of Clair Obscur, every one only lives to 33, and every year the number ticks down as the Paintress, a god-like being across the ocean from the starting city of Lumiere, takes her toll. You'll play as the members of the 33rd expedition as they attempt to defeat the Paintress and discover the secret of the Gommage. Based off of games like Persona and Final Fantasy, Clair Obscur has turn-based combat with the addition of a real-time parry and dodge system that plays out a lot like a rhythm game. Initially, I struggled with the real-time mechanics, but I learned to parry when the combat animation of the enemy is moving downward and also to listen for a tell-tale audio cue. Still the game gives you plenty of Luminos and Pictos (swappable buffs that you can switch out at anytime) to tweak your characters to your play style. Oh, and the music is awesome too. It took me approximately 50 hours to beat the game with some of the side quests completed. A recommended RPG to basically anyone, even those without experience playing JRPGS such as myself.

Doom 3: I set up a retro PC upstairs with an AMD Athlon X2 6000+ CPU and a Geforce GTS 250 GPU, hooked up to a Samsung CRT monitor that I bought in Chicago around 2004. Doom 3 was the first title I revisited. Atmospherically, it still holds up. The attention id paid to lighting the Mars base really brings the space station to life. Combat though is another story. The shotgun is pathetically weak and an insult to its predecessors. Your movement speed is so slow and the rooms are so cramped that it's hard to avoid damage or dodge projectiles. Also, your vision blurs and shakes when you take damage, making it very easy to die as soon as a monster gets into your face. The monster designs, however, are pretty great. Id must have take inspiration from the Resident Evil series--you could put the Hell Knight and the Pinky into those games and not have them look out of place. Dated jump-scares aside, I enjoyed my first couple of hours with the game. It's only when you reach the Delta Labs that gameplay starts to drag, as the game has shown all of its cards at that point. Hell is a treat, but the constant darkness and mediocre combat weaken the otherwise coolness of the demonic dimension. I'm almost to the end but at this point I'm unsure I'll make it.

Metroid Prime Remastered: I've never played a Metroid game, but Metroid Prime Remastered is pretty good so far, four or so hours in. I've had to consult a walkthrough a couple times because Metroid expects you to revisit its connected levels after you've acquired new abilities, like the boost ball or jump boots to unlock new pathways. A little more direction would be appreciated. However, the mix of plaftorming, shooting, and exploration is very good, and as a PC gamer I'm appreciating this Switch classic.