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Thanks for the suggestions

The perspective and composition tips really helped - i tend to not plan my bg at all (or at least i did six months ago) and just keep adding random crap to an empty cube until i was happy, and then work that into my puzzles later. Obviously now i realize that what pretty stupid, but heck i learned a lot from it so it wasnt wasted.

Ryan - thats meant to be a large wardrobe, although the fact that you could recognize means it needs a serious change anyway. Ill take into concideration the UI tips - i think your right actually, i started it as a school project, and whenever someone watched me over my shoulder that was the first thing they asked about, so i think i shall have to sacrifice it

Trihan - I definitely need to fill it up a bit,  bringing the rest of the room up to the nastiness of the worst bits, much like Common Cold, and perhaps making the room smaller overall to make it more claustrophobic

Trent - Thanks for the rule, i had no idea but it does make sense. when i plan the next rooms, ill take into account stuff like this and recompose the room, i think it'll make it a hell of a lot easier to compose as well, because i barely have to show the other room, and don't need to display my awful perspective-ing skills.

Also one more thing i just realized, because the rooms are at different angles, the character looks messed up (especially in the kitchen one where the character is pretty much side on and the camera is at a 20/30 degree tilt)

Thanks again,
Aljoho

Hey guys. Life threw a bunch of crap and exams etc at me and I haven't AGS'ed in ages, and i just dredged up my old game. I eventually gave up on it because i lacked the persistence and artistic talent to finish it.

anyway, i looked at a few of the backgrounds for the first time in about 6 months, and with new eyes they don't look so bad. There are still a lot of flaws and i thought i'd just put it up to the community before I decide, and begin working on my game again



The hair is just my character (its an in game screen shot so i capture all the objects)

This is obviously a run down apartment. my protagonist is probably around 20ish, and the room is covered in mould and horrible nasty things. I'm pretty sure the perspective is slightly off, although thats partially an addition to the quirky, rotten look.

WHAT I DON'T LIKE:

The spiderwebs are horrible, im aware that i need to do a fix on them,
The bed sheets are really distorted, any ideas how i can make them look better - wrinkles are bloody hard to do!
The tree just outside the window.
I havent yet coloured the window visible through the door
I'm aware also that its an unlikely poster for a 20 year old to have, it was just intended as a test and it will probably change, as will the box full of teddy bears. I was just experimenting.
The arrows on my UI, although again, these will change.

WHAT I DO LIKE:

For some reason i like the computer monitor.
I like the mould spots and the dank blobs on the wall
The background for my UI


Just out of interest can you recognize the black outline in the foreground left, because im not sure if its identifiable to anyone but me

Spoiler

Its just a random pile of crap. i realize its probably not recognizable as anything else, but i wonder if anyone can actually understand this just from looking at it. I think it is because it lacks depth, i need to add a few shades of grey behind it

[close]

This is the adjacent kitchen.

WHAT I DON'T LIKE:

The Floor texture - it doesn't go at all with the walls, or the run down look (its just a gimp texture)
The peeling wallpaper - something isn't right there
Calendar, phone - Phone is too small, looks cut in half. Calendar not parallel to the wall
Dishes look strange, everything else is almost spotless, except for the sink.
Just realized, by analysing it for this post, quite how horrific the perspective is on this one. I think it'll have to be a redo.
I just realized how functionality nightmarish these are - Both having really disgusting areas, and some spotless areas.

WHAT I DO LIKE:

The metal texture on the sink
The bin, and the leakage. it looks just gross enough


I've pretty much convinced myself, through writing this post, that its a redo job, but i'll post it up anyway for further ideas, ones i have undoubtedly missed, or disagreements on what i think.

Any thought would be great. Thanks for the help

Heres a REALLY optimistic entry for y'all

'A better time'

      The street was a jewel. It was the only word he could find to describe it. Despite the rain, the icy night air. The rain gathered in puddles, like an onrushing army. It streamed down the slight incline; rushing into a glorious battle. Above him, stretching high, were a thousand glistening, crystalline spires. No matter how cliché, like something out of a science fiction story, it sounded there was no doubting it. Laying here, on the floor, the lights of a city - neon glares and office flares - stretched seemingly a hundred thousand fold above him into the heavens. The Lights shone through the thick droplets, casting disco like glows and lighting up the city around him.
       Beneath him, the city was reflected in the river of rain â€" it reminded him of his days as a miner, richer days; happier days. digging thick into the bedrock of Africa for diamonds and rubies, the cobbled streets acted much like the cavern, causing the towering spires of buildings to stretch infinitely downwards as well, like some huge polar axis.
       Reminiscences of a better time: a time before divorce, before alcohol, before gambling, before eviction notices and court orders, before jail, welled up - fresh and new. And although he knew he wasn’t strong enough to deal with them, much like the street could not defend against the sheer might of the glistening rain, he let them come. A tear - a soldier amongst all the others falling from the heavens - fell from his cheek, falling onto the drenched sleeping bag.
       In front of him, an occasional person dashed past, not even turning to look, not at the cup, pooling with water, at the dog, a German shepherd, huddling beside him: stick thin and shivering. They saw only a huddled figure, a tramp, a hobo, hiding to escape the battle between earth and sky, much like they did, huddled under their umbrellas, and under raincoats.
       And now, in the present, his whole life glistened before him. He knew how his every mistake, his every stupid, foolish error, could be corrected. If only he had a time machine, a redo button on life, if only…


      Just thought I'd share my inspiration - although I'm sure nobody is really that interested . Basically recently, whilst in London, I saw a tramp. This isn't a particularly rare occurrence and, like most people, I usually just ignore them. This guy, however, looked very normal. Most tramps are usually unshaved, bearded old men who look evil/mad (drug addicts, drunkards, psychopaths etc.) This guy, however, looked really normal, and I found myself wondering what he had done to get where he was, intrigued as to what his back story is. Anyway heres the product - just wanted to share my 2 cents (hope you liked it)

I'm interested - assuming I can find the time - in entering, but i'm a little bit confused about the theme. Does it have to be a memory we've had, or a character reciting a memory (or is it open to interpretation)

          Well unsurprisingly my vote goes to Jack Sheenan.
          It's not just because i cant vote for myself though, i've always been one for bizzarre universes in which humans are so almost feral that they regard human life as trash, much like many parts of the Star Wars universe or in Judge Dredd. I think it just provides an interesting enough contrast to the real world as to grab my interest. Also it has a car chase, i mean come on who doesnt love a good car chase.

Im working on mine as we speak definately expect another entry in a later edit

Here it is its a bit of a novel at almost 2500 words. I always get carried away when i write . Hope you like it

          1776. Somewhere in the mid Atlantic. The large wooden boat struggled fruitlessly on the stormy ocean, and like a snuffer about to extinguish a flame the enormous waves and turbulent seas seemed to be playing with its quarry, a child tossing his food around its plate. Aboard the ship a few figures tried desperately to gain control of their ship.
          From the crows nest came a voice that was lost to the wind, and just before the ship was torn asunder, the screaming male who had spoke felt a brief moment of relief as the words “Land Ahoy!” left his parched lips.

          Then he was tossed mercilessly into the air. Falling, falling, falling. Icy water enveloped him, and then he  knew only crashing waves, white flecked foam which tossed him about, then gasping futilely for air, finding only the tang of salt, and totally at the mercy of the sea. Finally: hopeless and despairing, freezing and thirsty he knew only blackness.

           Spluttering, he could only lay there a moment as the water washed over his still form. Finally, with enormous effort he slid his eyes open a crack. The blazing heat beat down on him caused them to shut reflexively, but after a while he became accustomed to the light and painfully sat up.

          Staring around him, he saw a once pristine sandy beach stretching out on either side of him, littered with cracked wood. The sand seemed to reflect every ounce of heat straight onto him and standing up, the effort threatening to knock him unconscious, he stumbled and staggered into the shade of some nearby trees.

            He dimly remembered voraciously splashing some muddy water from a spring down his throat. His thirst momentarily quenched he began to feel coherent again. Wandering purposefully out onto the beach, he walked up it. After a short while he stumbled across a body that bore a familiar face. His friend Tom lay unconscious on the sand. Tom was a tall, lanky sailor. His thin face looked to be upside down with a totally bald head, but a crop of thick black hair sprouting from his chin. Pumping furiously on his chest Frank was just beginning to lose hope when with a wheezing cough; Tom sat bolt upright spewing salt water from his mouth.

          Helping his friend to his feet the pair set about finding drinkable water. Whilst Tom’s looked to quench his thirst, Frank set about searching for more survivors, but to no avail. Several drenched corpses littered the beach farther down the coastline. They set about burying their shipmates, saying prayers for their souls and before dark settled in, they began to make camp. Scavenging some dead wood, they lit a fire, and with some thin branches they made a shelter, covering it with palm leaves to keep out rain and bugs.
The next few days were a desperate struggle for survival. The small island bore little edible food and the few coconuts they found barely served to counterbalance the energy they exerted to build their camps.

           During one of the days that followed, whilst on the way back from an all too familiar, and relatively unfruitful food expedition, strolling casually along, Tom let out a cry and the bundle of coconuts in his hands slew everywhere as he seemed to hand in mid air for a split second, then vanished. Looking down Frank saw what appeared to be a well. Desperately he found a sturdy looking vine and, tying it to a sturdy stump, Frank threw it down the cavernous hole, calling to his friend to climb up it. There was no answer and, fearing the worst for his friend,  Frank clambered down the vine after him.

          He was about halfway down the vine, when the darkness all about him suddenly became an intense blue spiral. He quickly lost all sense of direction as the world seemed to spin sickeningly end over end, the sapphire world changing to shades of emerald, before all went inevitably dark. Trying not to spew up the valuable food milk all over the place, Frank braced himself for a long ride as, again, the world began to spin. As suddenly as it had started it stopped he felt the impact of a hard floor as his feet thwacked into it with a resounding ring.

          Surveying the bizarre metal world around him, he fought vertigo and lost. Tumbling to the floor, the wind was knocked out of him. Clambering uncertainly to his feet, he inspected the room closely. In one corner of the room stood an enormous and imposing metal door. A spoked wheel such as those on a cart stuck out in the middle such as those on a cart. He jumped as he suddenly realized he wasn’t alone Staring around the room, he suddenly noticed a hoard of people. Amazed he hadn’t noticed them before, the noise was deafening. People laughed and talked casually to each other.

          They stood in an orderly line. He watched as the person at the front of the line stepped up to a counter which had the words ‘Safety deposit box,’ where a plain faced woman sat. The man showed her a piece of parchment as white as clouds, she nodded as he pulled out an oddly shaped key with a numbered tag with the word ‘Billingtons’ written on it and moved towards the large metal door. It opened on huge metal hinges and the man stepped inside, accompanied by an elderly woman. He stared back at this bizarre scene as another person stepped up, a woman.

          The most bizarre thing about them was their clothes. The people were clad in such an assortment of clothes, from what appeared to be dresses but were cut short at the knees, to thick cloaks that didn’t extend beyond a boys hips, but bore a hood. They often had bizarre writing, such as on young looking boy, clutching at his mothers arm bore such a cloak. Written in a bright white hand on the black breast of the bizarre shirt were the words ‘System of a Down,’ with a broad had drawn beneath
Wondering what bizarre place he had found himself in, he walked down the line of people admiring their interesting clothes. Then he saw a figure that scared him.

          The figure had no chest length beard, and bore no earrings, nor had he the scar that ran down his cheek, but even in the black jacket and tie the man wore there was no question it was himself. As he watched the figure carefully placed his hand into the pocket of the boy with the ‘System of a down’ cloak and withdrew a small leather packet, with some long white string protruding from its base. Before Frank had time to examine the bundle in his doppelganger’s hand, the thief took some paper and an assortment of odd coins from the boys mothers pocket, pretending to nudge her as he did so. Apologizing profusely he moved on. Horrified to see this thieving version of himself, he called to the woman. She didn’t appear to hear him. He strode up to her and waved his hand in her face. Nothing.

          Infuriated, he strolled up to his double and raised his fists. He punched the man with all his might, and his hand met with the mans face and kept going. The idea he must be dead dawning on him, he settled to follow himself.

          Shortly the man left the building. Passing straight through the metal door as though it didn’t exist, Frank shadowed himself as the figured carried his loot down several side passages. Staring at the metal boxes that travelled without horses that sped down the streets in amazement, He almost lost himself, but resolving to follow himself he ignored the bizarre contraptions of this bizarre metal world and moved on.

         After a while the thief came to a small door down a small alley and removed a small ring of keys and opened it. The man placed a small pipe in his mouth and lit it with another contraption. Then he began to remove things from his pockets. Item after item was placed on the table in front of him.

          Contraptions which blared light and sound were sorted one at a time. They were either placed on the table with the others or thrown into a small round box on the floor. Money came from every crevice in the mans clothes, and before long the table was filled with everything Frank could imagine.

          The man then opened a door Frank hadn’t noticed before by rolling up a carpet. Underneath this hidden door the man pulled out one of the small devices. A girl of about 18 years old sat their, a gag around her mouth. Her arms tied to the chair. Tears rolled down her cheeks and Frank was appalled to see two of her fingers were missing. The man removed a small knife and poised it ready to cleave another finger. A thought occurred to him. If he could walk through walls how come he didn’t fall through the floor.

          On impulse he lashed out with his foot. Sure enough the foot landed right in between the mans legs and he crumpled with shock and agony. Pinning the kidnappers foot down with his own, frank heard a silent sound like a clap. He tried to move his foot, but there were only three feet where there should have been four. Trying to tug his leg away Frank saw the other mans leg shaking.

          Stepping on the other leg, to try getting some leverage to pull, Frank finds both legs are now combined. A sudden realization hits him and he lies down on the man. Another sound and he sees the thief flying across the room. For a brief moment their eyes locked, and pure hate burned in the mans eyes, and then he was running aiming a kick at Frank. Then Franks doppelganger was falling, as though through a hole. A flash of brilliant blue light lit up the whole dank room and then there was just Frank and the kidnapped girl.

          Breathing heavily Frank got to his feet. The terrified girl was sobbing ferociously. She flailed and whined as he grabbed the knife and cut the ropes binding her hands. She stood there, stunned and then she ran without looking back.

          Brushing himself down, Frank left the dank basement. Left the house. Strolling casually down the street, he eyed the metal machines with fascination as they whizzed endlessly passed him. The sun was beginning to set as the old sailor felt something in his pocket. As he dug in to pull it out he saw it was the thief’s Bundle of small keys. One key in particular caught his eye and as he saw it he began to run. Swiftly his sore bones crossed through many Metal boxes, and he finally came to a stop at a building he recognized. Strolling up to the door, he tried it, but it didn’t budge

          “Its locked I’m afraid. We’re closing up for the night” came a tight female voice from the other side of the transparent door.
          “can you do an old man a quick favour I want to get in my safety depos…deposit box?” He inquired awkwardly
          “Aw what the hell,” said the woman. “I haven’t shut down the system yet. You be quick mind, I want to go home.” The door swung open allowing Frank entrance into the bank. He walked in, eagerly prospering his key. The plain faced woman he’d seen earlier stared down at it then up at him. “Got any papers or proof of id?”
   
          Frank stopped dead. Not daring to breath. Not sure what the woman wanted he offered her the ring of keys. She took them and eyed them. “Ah yes this’ll do.” She said, holding up a small piece of card tied onto the ring with a few words written on it. She led him to the big metal door and it swung aside. Rushing in, eager to see what was inside he ran forward when she lead him to a box with the same number as on his key. He put the key in the small lock and turned it. The small box opened to reveal an immense stack of the paper sheets that the thief had stashed with his coins.

          Assuming this was money he dug it all out as well as a small leather bound book with the word ‘Passport’ written on the front. He hurriedly left the bank and headed down the street towards another thing that had caught his eye. He came to a dock where a boathouse sat by a small quay. He ran down under that fading sun, and knocked on the boathouse door.

            After a minute a tall man answered. “How much for that boat?” Frank blurted out in a rush, pointing to a ship out in the harbour.

           â€œA couple of grand,” came the deep reply

           â€œWill this do?” Frank asked, forcing the piles of money onto the man.

           â€œThe mans eyes opened wide and he inquired, “your not from around these parts are you? You on the run? I don’t want to know and yeah, this is more than enough.” He handed a chunk of money back to Frank, disappeared and reappeared a minute later with a pair of keys. “Here ya’ go,” the man uttered but over come with excitement Frank was already off, keys in hand. “Crazy bastard…” the boat salesman muttered as he closed the door

            Frank leapt on board the ship, old bones creaking as he did so. He stepped into the cabin of the rust encrusted fishing boat, and, ignoring the engine completely he began to row. His job wasn’t over yet, he had to find Tom. He could grow a beard and he got the feeling there was much more to this strange world that he didn’t yet know.

            1776. Somewhere in the Mid Atlantic. A scared man fell, screaming, with a crash onto the soft soil. Sitting bolt upright the bearded man in ragged sailors clothes stared around, hoping to find his horde of stolen iPods, his money or even the vicious, biting girl he kidnapped. But he finds none of these. Instead in front of him sits a grinning figure. The man brandishes a knife. He was a tall lanky man with a thin face devoid of hair, except for a thick black beard which was coated heavily in blood. The sounds of screams echoed heavily in to the night

   You can alpha blend to the extent of having an alpha channel but can you have a character with the background showing through him (i.e translucsent characters like ghosts etc) if so how?

Its a bit long (900 words) ... i got a bit carried away, but heres my entry

Red And Blue

The cold air bit at his every inch and threatened to freeze his bones, but he pressed on over the sandy plain. A dim reflection of his predicament passed casually through his head, odd considering the odds resting on his shoulders. He, he thought he had a name but nothing came at the thought, had to cross the beach, futilely fighting the cold and walk across the frozen ocean towards the island. He wasn’t sure what he had to find there, he thought he’d known once, but his mind seemed shrouded in a layer of thick fog, His head aching with the sudden torrent of effort it took to think he resolved not to ponder again. The frosted field gave way to a sheer cliff.
Looking around for a path he saw none. Wondering what he’d do, he casually swung his rucksack of his shoulder, ignoring the dim pain thought brought. The icy straps were frozen and dipping his hand inside the case, he felt like he had been enveloped in ice, but with resolve he kept reaching. His hand clasped around something that made the air seem warm. Palely aware of shivering he clasped to small metal figure. The figure was of polished brass, and casually he swung back his arm and propelled the figure as high as he could. Ducking and diving, he lunged aside. He landed painfully on a rock, but he barely had time to feel the pain before a sound reached his ears.
   Thunder ringing in his ears he turned, the sheer cliff was gone and in its place stood a mass of rubble. He revelled in the warmth of the fire of a moment before, but rapidly it dissipated and he stepped in to the chill. Bloody Hell! There’s no way it was this cold before! The thought passed through his head followed by a momentary brain freeze. His head felt stuffed with wool but he stepped onwards
   It took him the best part of an hour to reach the island across the frozen sea. When it cam in sight, nearby in the shrouded fog, the dim shape of a mountain rearing out of the sea, a knife piercing the sky. As he neared it the enormity of it only greatened. Feeling as though the cold would freeze his blood he pulled his coat more firmly about him and pushed on, bracing the winds, his mind set on his task.
   What he thought was another hour of steady walking passed, and the air began to get warmer as he began to climb up the steep face. It struck him what he was about to do, and he let out a bitter laugh. His memory felt less clouded. It was warmer. The though was no longer a dim brain freezing reflection, his mind seemed to be working. As he climbed higher the snow and ice slowly became scarce, until he suddenly noticed there was none at all. Sweating he unzipped his coat, then his fleece, removed his shoes, till finally the summit came in sight and he reached for his bag. He felt in his bag for another small figure, this time of a gold like substance, though he knew it wasn’t gold. The figure was warm now, bringing out yet more sweat in his palms. As he reached the summit his mind rushed back and he remembered everything. His name was Matt Saunders, his father, the asshole who had gotten the world into this mess was the “world famous scientist” who had tried to toy with the worlds weather using a bunch of magnets and a huge contraption that produced the static electricity that had first wracked the world with torrential rains and thunder, the wreaked havoc with the seas, causing them to fizz due to a build up of chemicals, and finally freeze, killing tens of thousands, including his father. He reached the summit and felt hot tears on his cheeks. Not caring he pressed on, and looked down in to the roiling mass of red he took a deep breath and just as casually as before let the figure go, this time dropped into the mouth of the volcano. With an o so familiar roar, as though of thunder, the volcano seemed to give off a loud belch. Turning he ran. This time the beach rushed up to meet him quickly, and the large expanse of beach around the island was not covered in thick sheets of ice, but sat still as a calm lake. He felt the sand beneath his bare feet, each individual grain seeming to burn a mark into his soles, not looking round he stared out to sea. It seemed a fitting place to die, surrounded but serenity on one side, and chaos on the other, battling till one had to one, it seem ironic that one way would save him, should the sea win, but the other the world. Wading up to his waist in the water Matt ducked his head under and waited. After a few minutes he heard a hiss, and the water around him fizzed and bubbled. He had won, yet he had lost. It seemed strange the cost of victory, like a thorn covered rose, yet a thousand, a million times over. Ignoring the water bubbling around him, ignoring the pain, he waited

A couple of things i'd love to see in a further version of ags 

  The ability to alpha blend (i can imagine this would be a pain to code, but then my knowledge of C or C++ is infinitecimal so who knows) this would be great for ghosts etc obviously
  It can get really confusing when you have loads of views and folders for more as you cant delete them (i dont think)
  another thing i think would be really difficult (what do i know ) would be a cool way to set each room as a tile for tiled games and be able to tesselate rooms hundreds at a time to create a zeldaish level style (i can dream i doubt this would happen :o)

kl thx just wanted to be sure

is there any way i can have a character showing up several times in two different places at once or do i just have to create multiples of that character?

ok cheers just wanted to be sure

In my game there is a huge function under which turning off a light switch will trigger about 150 lines of code, changing objects and making them invisible etc, but ive just gotten to the point upon which the light switch has started to nothing when i click on it. Is this because of a limit in the amount of things one function can do or because something else i did? just thought id check before doing some drastic code cutting

wow thanks

sorted it but im still a bit confuzed as to what happened. The only thing i changed was import a walkable area mask between it working perfectly and crashing constantly.

Any idea why that happened?

It is the function ags calls on to change room as far as i know, the change room function first calls on room save and then room load fro a different room. this is how i always understood it maybe im wrong.
either way no in my room two script there is only two function change room and interact with something in the corner

An internal error has occured please note down the following info if it prsists contact chris jones
aci version 3.00.1000

error prepare_script: error - 18 (no such function in script) trying to run 'room_load' Room 2

nobody got any ideas? is the import input mask function faulty or something

Nope not at all

   Having said that use direction 4-7 is set to true for my player but he still doesnt face the diagonal directions?

wow that simple cant believe i didnt think of that

cheers a bunch