Messages

Blast!  He figured it out before me.  He's like my wife.... only in AGS form!

Clearly I haven't played too many adventures, since I haven't got #1 across.... .  I've got most everything figured out except that top-left corner... I think I might have made a mistake that's gumming everything else up.  We're talking common crossword-style answer for 2011 Mittens location, ja?

An entry already!  Is it autumn?  'Cause your leaves are already turning!  Keep 'em coming.

Rules: No ... it-was-a-dark-and-stormy-nights.

Aw maaaan. *Are* there any other ways to begin a story?

There is but one other way to truly start a story.  But I can't tell you what it is; no one can.  You have to find it for yourself in a hallucinogenic induced spirit walk, clutch it with all your limbs and all your might, and then hope against hope that you can pull it back into reality with you. 

Can I use vampires that are not grisly at all but sparkle in the light?

Yeah, sure, I like sparkly vampires.  At least, in an awkward teenage-angsty kinda way.  So long as they are emotionally insecure and struggle with their issues through ostentatiously melancholic pouts and appallingly bad acting, I'm all for it.

I'm going to go ahead and start this because Ponch told me to.  Sure it's illegal according to the Forum Charter, which not only contains no mention of an authorized Fortnightly Writing Competition, but also expressly indicates that the Monthly Writing Project is unavailable and should not be reactivated without consulting a moderator; but, whatevs.  Ponch said so!  That's justification enough, IMO.  So without further legal preamble I give you....

DAS FORTNIGHTLY WRITING COMPETITION
Turning Over a New Leaf Edition

New Year, new beginning; clean slates and fresh starts.  Now is the time of year when the mind turns resolutely to breaking with the past: trying new things or old things in new ways.  This fortnight's writing competition revolves around this very theme.  Aspiring writers are required to write a short poem, story or fragment about a character attempting or struggling with change.  Maybe it's a college student leaving home for the first time. Maybe it's a con man leaving behind a life of crime and assuming a new identity. Maybe it's a battery powered lovebot and that just got a brand new recharger (maybe I've just given away Ponch's idea  ). Maybe it's a craven and cynical AGSer who decides to get involved more in the community through the medium of writing competitions. It could be anything, so long as it fits the New Year's appropriate theme of starting fresh.

Deadline: January 13th, unless sufficient pleading melts my iron cold heart.

Voting: Approximately four days -an absolute deadline will be given when voting begins.

Rules: No sabotage, low-blows, cheap-shots, blatant plagiarism or it-was-a-dark-and-stormy-nights.  Let's keep this clean, people.  GO!

I vote Sinitrena too.  Not just because it's a classy thing to do: she also actually followed the rules about a nice seasonal feel.  To be fair I thought the villagers were too one-dimensional (especially the mother), but I suppose simple folk were simpler back in simple times....  Anyway, the themes of redemption and forgiveness were well wrought, and I liked how she wove these Christian themes into a pagan fantasy world.  And in that context the depth of character of Nissa and the Goddess contrasts well with the unidimensional villagers: both Nissa & the Goddess can find mercy in their hearts despite being wronged/abused, while the unenlightened are mired in more selfish animal spirits.  So because Sinitrena actually put some thought into teaching a real seasonal lesson I give her my vote.

Thanks, Baron.  The deadline isn't for another ten hours. So if anyone else wants to jump in and grab his default trophy, now's the time.

Hey!

[>leave lamp]

>leave lamp

Oh wait, it's all over....  See what happens when I don't keep up with the forums for one week?!?  It's a good thing I didn't invest a lot of emotional attachment in this character and story-world.... oh wait. 

Anyway, I want to wish you the best of luck with your new games: focus is definitely a necessity if you want to get some serious work done.  These interactive adventure games have been really fun -somebody should start another one.  With camel spiders.  And line-art dinosaurs.  And zombies!  Lots of zombies!

In short, I'm an attention seeking drama queen, so, goodbye.

See, this is what I don't get.  Obviously this is a place for drama queens to hang out, so why would you leave???    (JOKE!)

Seriously, though, you've got the talent and the knowledge and it seems obvious that you have the passion to really contribute something here on one hand.  On the other, we have an open source engine that could go big places if only someone with the vision and the wherewithal seized it by the throat and tamed it to his will.  So maybe you don't coordinate well with others.... that's ok, because it's open source.  Can one man do it all?  Hey, CJ did it!  There is the little matter of splintering the versions if you build your own version, but if your improvements merit a following I'm sure some type-9 personality will undertake to reconcile your work to the main-stream later on down the road.  And if the community's open source efforts continue to yield limited progress perhaps your version will become the main-stream version.  You'd be the new CJ through fait accompli.  So go ahead and runaway.  Alfred the Great, Robert the Bruce, Richard Nixon.... they all had did their time in the wilderness before returning to triumph and glory.  I for one await your return,

Baron 

COAL SQUAD

Melvin stood in front of the door, trepidation leaking down his right pant leg.  The bold letters, stencilled on the frosted glass, stared back at him as if from the black abyss of uncaring that they represented.  COAL SQUAD.  Now was the payoff of a lifetime of investment, if only he could pull it off.  All those years of toil, patiently climbing the ranks, just to get to this door.  He'd mucked the reindeer stalls in the Livestock Division, beat every quota on the books in Production and been a high-flyer up in Distribution.  But here was where the dirty business of Christmas really happened: down in the trenches.  This was where the big boys played, where the action was.  And Melvin had always wanted to be where the action was.  He swallowed the butterfly that had fluttered up from his tummy into the back of his throat, and then pushed through the door.
   A fat elf sitting at a messy desk turned a disdainful eye toward him and grinned unpleasantly.  He was wearing a short-sleeved dress-shirt with a scuttle holster strapped to his suspenders, and he sported a rat-like moustache over his sneering lip.  On the desk was a pile of files, a half-eaten sandwich, an empty coffee cup and a name plate with PIDOWSKI emblazoned onto it.  The fat elf leaned back on the rolly chair that squeaked excruciatingly under the strain.  "Looky looky!" he barked more than called.  "Fresh grist for the mill.  Check this one out, Garcia!"
   Another agent came over to lean on the desk of the first, though how he found the empty space to do so was a marvel to Melvin.  This Garcia was slender with sharp sideburns and a piercing stare, which he turned on Melvin at full intensity.  "That's just a delivery boy," Garcia laughed.  "I bet he hasn't even done basic."
   Melvin swallowed hard and introduced himself.  "No, I'm Melvin Murphy, transferring in from Distribution.  Here are my orders."
   Pidowski and Garcia exchanged glances and laughed.  "You're serious?" asked Pidowski, accepting the offered papers disdainfully before tossing them onto the messy desk unread.  "Kid, you're more raw than a Turkey six days before Christmas.  What do you think we do down here, polish ornaments?"  They were both eyeing him over now, taking his measure.  Melvin's back instinctively straightened.
   "You guys are the enforcers of the operation," Melvin said.  "You keep the magic real, by not allowing it to be cheapened by the undeserving.  I'm here to learn the ropes."
   The straight faces were gone and again there was laughter.  Melvin noticed that a ring of fat under Pidowski's chin jiggled as he struggled to speak: "Get a load of this guy!"
   "You think you got what it takes?" Garcia asked, the mirth instantly departed once more.  "We don't play reindeer games down here.  This is for real."
   Melvin nodded.  "Put me in coach," he said.  It sounded cheesy, and he regretted it immediately.
   Garcia waved a finger at him in a warning kind of way.  "Keep your eyes and ears open at all times, Kid.  Anything I tell you at any time might save your life, so don't miss it or forget it.  You know what happened to the last kid they sent down here?"
   Melvin shifted awkwardly on his feet.  He'd heard the rumours, but it was hard to get to the truth in the merry divisions.  Everything with a low jolly factor was heavily censored.
   Pidowski took a big bite of his sandwich, then bluntly told him through a veil of chewed food.  "Landed in a meat grinder on his first mission.  He's Hot Sausage somewhere in Texas, now."  That last bit came as a fleck of salami was spat out, narrowly missing the point on Melvin's right ear.
   "Someone's probably washing him down with egg nog and bourbon as we speak," Garcia jumped in, gauging Melvin for a reaction.  He felt weak in the knees, but he tried to appear outwardly nonplussed. 
   "I'm a detail oriented elf," Melvin replied.  "I dot my i's and cross my t's.  They sent me down here because I don't make mistakes."
   "Good," Garcia nodded.  "As long as you keep that up, you'll go far down here.  Garcia motioned for him to follow him on a tour.  Pidowski strained to raise himself from his wheely throne and lumbered along behind them.
   "So you know the deal," Garcia started.  "The big guy upstairs is a jolly old sack of goodwill who doesn't like to get his hands dirty.  So every year he sends us a blacklist.  We go in and coal the bastards, or die trying."
   Melvin processed this.  Everyone knew the gist of how Coal Squad worked, but now was his moment to get the dirty details.  "Where does the list come from?"
   Garcia waited while Pidowski caught up, wheezing slightly at the exertion.  "Ever heard of CI5?" he panted.
   Melvin shook his head.  He'd once dated a hot elf-chick from Admin and thought he knew the organization in-and-out.  "No, what's that?"
   Garcia filled in the blanks.  "Christmas Intelligence.  It's a secret unit of spooks who gather intel on the entire Receiver population."  Garcia grabbed him by the arm and waved that finger again.  "Don't leak that or they'll blacklist you."
   Pidowski nodded gravely.  "What happens in Coal Squad stays in Coal Squad, follow?"
   Melvin nodded.  But still he had questions.  "So.... if CI5 knows it all, how come they don't share the info with the proper authorities.  I mean, it's fine and dandy us coaling all the rapists and arsonists and so on, but wouldn't the world be a better place if the police knew all about these criminals?"
        The two vets shook their heads.  "Idealistic little squirt, ain't ya?" Pidowski prodded.
        "Tell him about O'Neal," Garcia suggested, leaning back in the corridor as if it were going to be a long story.
        "O'Neal!" Pidowski spat, shaking his head.  "O'Neal used to be Coal Squad: a real sharp guy.  They bumped him up to CI5 -he even made deputy director.  But he had this idealistic notion that all the world's problems could be solved.  He discreetly leaked files on the 100 worse criminals in the whole world to Interpol." 
        Pidowski shook his head some more.
        "What?" Melvin asked.  "What happened?"
   "Nothing.  They didn't believe him.  Some of those monsters were powerful men with powerful friends.  They had Interpol turn their investigation onto the source of the accusations.  Stuck their magnifying glasses right up our asses and gummed up our operations for years.  Hell, Christmas itself was three days late back in '64 because of it.  Do you know how much mulled-wine they went through wiping that from the collective memory?  It took CI5 decades to reestablish its network.  As a consequence there were blacklist discrepancies for years."
   "It's true," Garcia added.  "I remember when I was a young intern with Distribution and I had to deliver to Mao Zedong.  Can you believe that?"
   "What'd he get?" Melvin asked.
   "A Santa ashtray."
   "But the point is," Pidowski continued gruffly, "the f*ing point is that he should have got coaled.  We couldn't coal anyone for years without a week-long stakeout to verify that the target was truly naughty.  And as a consequence the whole world went to crap.  It took a couple years for the full fallout to hit, but you ever wonder why crime rates sky-rocketed in the 1970s?"
   "What happened to O'Neal?" Melvin wondered out loud.
   "He was transferred to Sanitation," Pidowski answered.  "Now he cleans the Executive Suite, January shift.  You know what that means?"
   Melvin shook his head no.
   "Let's just say Big S eats about ten thousand pounds of fruitcakes on magic night, and it takes about a week to work its way through his system.  After that it's the messiest month of the year on the throne."
   "Explosively messy," Garcia chipped in.  "Shit, I heard he's got six toilets up there, all in a ring.  He works his way around and around, and even then sometimes the infrastructure can't keep up.  How'd you like to follow that with a mop?"
   "The lesson, Kid," Pidowski finished, "Is not to take matters into your own hands.  We're big on team work for a reason, and we ain't big on loose cannons.  Follow?"
   Melvin nodded, but he was distracted by the cowled wraith walking down the corridor towards them carrying a giant scythe. 
   "Ghost of Christmas Future," Garcia whispered to him.
   "Hey Bozak!" Pidowski called out.  "You gonna show up for bowling this week, or is the old battle axe still got you grounded?"
   "Damn it Pidowski, I told you it was our anniversary," the cowled figure grumbled angrily, sidestepping the three of them.  He had a hard time squeezing by big fat Pidowski, so he poked him in the gut with a bony finger.  "Hey, you get any rounder and we could just roll you down the alley."
   "Very funny," Pidowski replied.  "Pick you up at eight?"
   "Yeah," the cowled figure called over his shoulder.  "Just clean out that sty of a sleigh of yours.  It's like riding in a pack-rat's nest."
   "Whatever, Princess," Pidowski called after him.  He jabbed his thumb in the ghost's direction.  "What a primadonna!"
   They continued on their tour, Garcia pointing out briefing rooms and holding cells, dispatch and interrogation.  Then he came to the coaling range.  "Now you gotta prove yourself," he said with a flinty grin.  "Should we start you out with something sleek and light?  How about a Mother Shuttle Pistol?"
   "No," Melvin asserted himself.  "I don't like the balance of the girlie scuttles.  You got anything old school?  Like a 44?"
   Even before Garcia could exchange a glance with him, Pidowski had his scuttle out of the holster.  "Here, try mine."
   Melvin had a feeling he'd fit in just fine down here.

--------------

Well, I didn't get to include everything I wanted to, but it'll have to do.  Enjoy!

Thanks for all the positive feedback, cats.  I was apprehensive about the lack of game-play because the target audience aren't gamers by any contortion of the imagination, so I'm glad it was enjoyable if only for a short time.

Fun Facts: The decor is all based on interviews with my dad, since I felt it important to recreate his childhood home as accurately as possible.  Everything from the crummy panelling in the basement to the "piles of crap everywhere" in the bedroom aspires to be historically authentic.  The outside of the house is actually derived from a screenshot I was able to take using Google Earth streetview of the original family home.  The budgie belonged to a neighbourhood kid -apparently all it could say was "zip up your zipper Ronny", which was a useful reminder when the kid was 5 but apparently quite embarrassing when he was older.  And grandma (bless her) always did use WAYYYYYY to much hairspray.  She was like a can-a-day lady!

Ok ok, I've got it half done but the demands of family in all its many forms have prevented me from finishing.  I'll try to hammer it out tomorrow -I just need an hour (just one!).  Keep the comp open for me -somebody stall for time!

Merriment everyone,

Baron von Baron

This thread has turned from sad and maudlin to fun and exciting. Dualnames should start more threads! 

Yeah!  Nine times as many as he normally starts over the next month, so that we can coast through the following nine months without going through Dualnames withdrawal! 

[Cleveland 1968]

Cleveland 1968

Background:  My aunt & uncle tell a thrilling yarn about how they stole their parents' (my grandparents) car when they were teens.  I know, I know: with role-models like this, it's amazing I turned out to be the jovial and law-abiding Untersturmführer you have all come to know and love.  Anyway, the legend of my aunt & uncle's exploit has grown with the telling, and has become fused in my mind with various other family lore and what I understand life was like in the 1960s to create a kind of quasi-historic fictional episode that demands telling in adventure game format.  For Christmas 2012 it was decided that the extended family would share virtual gifts relating our hopes or hobbies, so motive met opportunity and I created the game.



The Game:  It's just a joke game made in about 2 weeks, but there is almost 10 minutes of game play involving 2-3 puzzles depending on how you count.  Voice actors are all in the family and attempt to mimic the mannerisms of the main protagonists.  This would be more funny if you knew the people involved, but since the dialog is almost incomprehensible due to the 60s lingo I assume others might find it somewhat amusing after all.  Anyway, right click is for looking, left click is for interacting or moving.  Here's the download link:

DOWNLOAD NOW

  As this isn't a real game I'm not going to add it to the database, so you'll have to give any feedback here.

  Also, I realise that lots of people can't be arsed to download a joke game so here's a playthrough on YouTube:

YOUTUBE PLAYTHROUGH

  The sound quality isn't the best after compression, but you get the gist.  Anyway, enjoy!

Tsk tsk, Baron. Don't you know DramaNames needs paraphrases of military movie quotes to encourage him right now? 

Every minute you stay on this forum, you get weaker, and every minute Charlie squats in the bush, he gets stronger.  Like end-boss strong.  You don't have three-wheel brakes, so you got to pitch it hard, break it loose and then just drive it with the throttle. Give it too much, you'll be outta the dirt and into the tulips.  You follow, son?

Swift return, buddy.  According to my wife 9 months passes like a blink of an eye.... 

I don't think the army's as bad as it once was.  They're not allowed to hit you or flog you any more for one thing, and tactics seemed to have improved since the line-up-and-give-them-something-to-shoot-at days.  You'll probably learn a lot, not just about how much you will probably loathe the institution, but about yourself and other people and things you'd never have been exposed to otherwise.  I say make the most of it, have fun, and get the heck out of there as soon as you can!

They are both older games, probably made with version 2.72 or earlier, and you're using Windows 7, so the issue *might* be what's covered in this thread.

Alright, I've got an idea.  I just need a spare hour or two to hammer it out.  Will report back by the 24th.

Nice contest idea, Ponch!  I for one am prepared to put our past rivalry aside during this season of brotherly reconciliation and do my earnest best to dream up a tale of Christmas cheer.  Wassail to you, good sir!

P.S. I always pictured that you'd look that way IRL.....

Ignore Pinback's sexy Canadian siren call -work on my Christmas project for free!!!!

THE SKINNY: I've made this Christmas game for some weird extended family gift-exchange thingy where everyone has to give an IP gift to the whole family.  I think the idea was writing a nice thought or drawing a picture or something, but the preamble suggested that you might consider sharing your hobbies as source material and I instantly seized upon the possibility of making a point & click adventure based on a legendary family episode: my aunt & uncle's theft of my grandparents' car when they were teenagers!  The project has evolved somewhat into a parody of 1960s culture, and I thought a nice touch would be voice work.  This project will be released on December 21 (since that's when it's made public to the family), so the clock's a ticking!

REQUIREMENTS: I need someone to voice my aunt.  Ideally it would be someone with a midwestern American accent (think rust belt: Pennsylvania through to about Wisconsin, but Ohio would be ideal).  Barring that someone who could do a nice flower-child impersonation -lots of whimsy and caprice kinda thing - would be great.  The workload is about 40 lines (there are exactly 87 lines total and I'm assuming they're roughly split down the middle, after the parrot's lines have been subtracted from the equation....).  Ideally they would be voiced by next Monday Dec 17.  Any takers please post here or PM me.

STATUS OF THE PROJECT:  It's essentially done -as I say this has to be released on the 21st of December.  I need to do a title screen and credits, but all the game play is there already.  If you are a female aged 16-40 or can impersonate one and would like to play the game for inspiration, please PM me.  Here's a screen shot of what the game looks like:



Thanks for considering to help!

Baron

My daughter always yells at me when I read stories with a pirate voice, so.... I guess you should sign me up.  I really have no idea what kind of pirate I'd make.... Do you want an audition, then you could just slot me in where you think appropriate?  PM me if interested.