Messages

Finnish media today are mostly drumming how the American debacle shows us how critically important it is to educate the general populace, so as not to have such a fertile base for propaganda and misinformation as the American general populace has.

Beyond that, I feel we can expect the last 4 years of unrest and violence to go on and potentially even escalate, especially now that both houses of parliament and the presidency are democrat again. That sort of one party government seems likely to fuel the distrust of the people even more than the two-out-of-three branches that the Republicans held under Trump. It's easy for me to say, living in a functional European democracy as I am, but the more I see of the American system the less it looks like a democracy to me. The two party system seems to create an untenable government which maximises friction and polarization, rather than promoting compromises. Right wing, left wing, both extremes are just as rotten and the healthy population that exists between them has nowhere to turn, as there is no third road to go down, and any attempt to create one in the form of third or fourth parties is derided as foolishness and "destabilising the system".

As all populist leaders do: Trump gave his voters what they wanted, or tried to. What the majority of people want in a polarized system like this, however, is rarely good for the whole of a nation. We've seen this time and time again in history, and America seems happy to repeat that history.

[23:59:59 (UTC) on the 10th of January.]

Chez WHAM?  Oh, hi - me again.  Sorry for missing my reservation (again), but in my defence they've been keeping me at work after-hours a lot this week.  Any chance of an extension to the weekend? 

Oh all right then. And here I was, hoping to have some delicious and delectable light reading in my hands, but I guess I can delay my gratification by a few more days.

New deadline:
23:59:59 (UTC) on the 10th of January.

You now have a whole weekend to cook up your story, Baron (and anyone else still working). I expect to see some freshly baked results!

I assume you accept baking? I hate cooking.
Funnily enough, my mother just gifted me a cooking book with cake recipies that are made in frying pans for my birthday. I didn't have a chance to try any of the recipies yet, but I just might in the next few days. (Assuming I have the ingredients. I'm certainly not going to go shopping just for some random ingredients right now.)
Maybe that will give me a story idea.

Baking is a close relative of cooking, so it will be accepted. We may consider the term "cooking" in the rules to encompass any methods via which food is prepared for consumption by changing the properties of, and/or by combining of, an ingredient or ingredients.

I just love cooking, and am using Christmas time as an excuse to cook some nice things, so I had the theme on my mind.

[FOOD]

We all need to eat, and the crafting of food is one of the finest, most delicate arts known to man. The tools of the trade are as varied as they are powerful, and the most powerful foodomancers can feed a king as easily as an army.



Your theme for this contest is: FOOD

One of the major themes of the story you write must have to do with cooking or otherwise preparing food.
The story must also, in some way, include a frying pan. (Or, as Brock showcases in the image above: a 'drying pan'.)

The deadline for this contest is 23:59:59 (UTC) on the 10th of January.. (Edited as of 7th Jan 2021)

The voting categories, in which you may award one point per category, are as follows:

- Best use of a frying pan or other cooking tool
- Best overall story
- Best technical writing


May the best tale win!

Woo! Thank you, folks! I'll try and get a new thread up tonight, as I get home from work, so we can delve into our next fortnight.

Oh, as for all the question you had about the story, Baron, there is a single, simple answer to all of them:

Spoiler

I suck at space science 

[close]

I think the next theme will have some loose connection to my story, and to the ongoing season of festivity. Stay tuned!

Got myself the DVD box of the first anime I ever watched: Trigun!
Time for some futuristic gunslinging nonsense and DONUTS!

[Sinitrena]

As always, reading Sinitrena's work is a delight, and my only vote has to go their way!

A grim tale of sacrifice and faith and the lack thereof, and how that lack can sometimes carry the day. Aside from a few tiny typos here and there I feel my only gripe is the very start, referring to "her" before we've established who "she" is. I feel like it would be more proper to at least establish the character's gender and type more clearly in the first time they are referred to, like a simple sentence of "A girl, no more than X years old, took a step that plunged her feet deep into the snow." After that one sentence, "her" would have felt absolutely appropriate again.

As for my own tale, I try to keep my stories relatively short, no more than 4 or 5 pages at most (and even this story was too long!), so as not to discourage potential readers who are trying to consume several short stories in a limited time due to the nature of this contest. I like to do worldbuilding, vague hints at something greater beyond the current scope of a tale, and thus I often end up writing what amount to starters to a greater tale, a first chapter or prologue that might fuel the imagination of the reader into conjuring up a far grander tale than the scope of this fortnightly contest permits. Then again, it might just feel frustrating to the reader... I shall strive to write a shorter, more complete tale, when I next participate.

Oh, and I have no idea how that one big typo stayed in. I write these in Google Docs and it should do spell checking. Or maybe I just missed the warning...

[Into the Frying Pan]

Into the Frying Pan

It was maddening to hear one’s own breath, the hiss of one’s own blood rushing in the veins, the slightest creak caused by the cramping of a muscle, or the tap of some tiny fragment of matter on the exterior of the visor.

“CATIE.” Vadim barely recognized his own voice. His tongue felt dry and stiff, and the sound, as it echoed inside his helmet, sounded muffled and distant.

A sequence of three short beeps indicated activation of the Combat Activity Tactical Information Evaluation subsystem.

“Time and status?” -Vadin requested for the nineteenth time. He’d lost count before reaching ten, but CATIE knew. The piece of software spoke with a soft, feminine voice designed to soothe its listener. Its speech patterns lacked the terseness and compression used to communicate efficiently during combat, as the program recognized Vadim’s sorry situation and altered its behaviour to calm him. If he didn’t know of that feature, it might have worked.

“User. The fleet time code is: 2271 - 347 - 2409. Time since last external signal: 334 hours. General status: nominal. Power status: nominal. Oxygen supply: nominal. Hydration: caution. Fluid supply has been reduced to 31 %. Please seek alternate fluid sources at earliest convenience.”

Vadim’s lips twitched, as a brief smile crossed his face in response to CATIE’s endless optimism. She’d advised him to seek more fluid for several of the last status checks, but that was unlikely to happen. Vadim raised his hand, a crackling sound carrying through the fibers of his suit, so that he could both hear and feel how fragments of translucent ice broke off his vacuum-suit, and tapped the side of his visor, causing its outer layers to spring up, clearing his vision. The pale-blue glare of a distant star filtering through the dense field of debris blinded him for a moment, but he squinted his eyes and adapted. The fragments of ice drifted through his field of vision, glimmering and reflecting the light. More ice, frozen gases and fluids from the detonation, clung to his helmet, gloves, boots and combat carapace.

As he watched the vast expanse of space before him, Vadim couldn’t help but let himself become mesmerized for a moment. The battle that had brought him here felt so insignificant now that it was over, terminated by what was almost certainly a purposeful and suicidal detonation of the rebel corvette’s reactor bank. All the politics and orders and hierarchy had vanished in a single blast of pure white light that tore asunder the task force gunships sent to recapture the stolen vessel, and sent the boarding craft spinning wildly as their structure was torn apart by the seemingly endless shower of shrapnel and debris. For the first few days there had been voices. Survivors trying to locate one another even as the immense force that had sent them careening off into the endless void pushed them further and further apart. Some had fallen silent suddenly, likely due to a collision, while others had said their goodbyes through the crackle and hiss of signals struggling to reach a recipient as power faded and distance became impossible to overcome.

Vadim had been left behind, in a sense. He’d been strapped to one of the larger chunks of boarding craft, which had by now vanished off into the distance as well, albeit at a slower speed than most. He’d detached, dodged, reoriented and spent all of the fuel his suit had just to remain closer to the point of origin, in the hopes that rescue would be here soon. Others had tried to do the same, and yet Vadim was alone now, with just CATIE for company.

“Sensors?” -the man asked, as he idly watched the frozen corpse of a naval crewman slowly spin and turn, almost as if dancing some delicate ballet in slow motion.

“No fleet signals detected. No non-fleet signals detected. No energy readings detected.” -CATIE stated. In his mind Vadim thought she’d apologised at the end there. He couldn’t move, couldn’t really turn, due to the lack of propulsion. If he wanted to expedite his death by thirst and starvation, he could vent some of his precious oxygen supply to generate thrust, but why? A chill ran down his spine. Although the suit was well insulated against the bitter cold just waiting to claim him, the solitude and steadily mounting desperation generated their own, unique brand of chill. The kind that touched the very soul, hardened it, made it brittle.

Vadim closed his eyes and focused on breathing. He wondered if CATIE would remark, somehow, were he to cry. Instead the man forced himself to chuckle and laugh at the idea of being scolded for wasting precious fluid on tears.

“User. Is there an issue I can assist with?” -CATIE offered in the softest, most cautious tone the software could muster. Vadim cleared his throat in an attempt to stop the dry, harsh laughter.

“No, CATIE.” -he finally managed. “Thanks- I, er- Just let me know if anything changes.”

“As you wish, user.”

-

“User.”

Vadim awoke with a start, his fingers twitching in the bulky gloves as his eyes shot open to see nothing but the black created by the protective visor.

“CATIE?” -he responded instinctively.

“Energy reading detected. Unknown vessel within vicinity and signal range. No non-encrypted communications detected. No fleet signals detected.”

Vadim’s mind wheeled at the knowledge. He didn’t know how long he’d slept as hours and days slipped by in silence, but now... He tapped his visor again, and squinted as always. Nothing seemed to have changed.

“Where?” -he demanded, unable to keep the impatience from his voice. CATIE responded by drawing a white square over his visor, to his right, a dozen degrees below his eyeline, along with a range idicator. 14 kilometers. As he watched, it turned to 13, confirming his hopes that it was indeed approaching.

“Rebel signals?” -Vadim wondered out loud. CATIE responded with a simple: “Negative. No known encrypted signal bands active.”

This puzzled Vadim. If the fleet hadn’t sent anyone to look for survivors, that in itself held some troubling implications. If the rebels hadn’t done so either, then that left very few options as to who the new arrivals might be. Barring first contact with an alien civilization, Vadim’s best guess was salvagers. Maybe some private enterprise had kept an eye out on things, bided its time and had finally decided that nobody else was coming to claim the wreckage.

11 kilometers.

Vadim watched intently, despite the vast distance meaning he couldn’t actually see the new arrival for some time. His helm was equipped for shipboard combat, and lacked the optics to zoom in on targets as far away as this. Besides, in the swirling mess of debris, his vision would be hampered anyway.

9 kilometers. 8. 7. 6. 5. 4. 3. 2.

“User. The unknown vessel is slowing down.”

Vadim watched as the reinforced flat-nosed freighter pushed its way into the debris field. The thick plating up front had been stripped of paint, but the rest of the body was a neutral beige tone, adorned with a company logo and ID code Vadim didn’t recognise. Part of him wanted to signal the vessel in the hopes that they might pick him up. But if they held any allegiance with the rebels, he might as well have lit a flare and painted a bullseye on himself. And yet he couldn’t see any weapons.

“User. The unknown vessel has come to a relative halt.”

“I see.” -Vadim replied. For a solid twenty minutes he just stared, waiting and wondering, gauging his options. Ahead, the ship blinked with life as a single bright spotlight activated, and began to hurriedly sweep the closest objects, flitting from corpse to corpse, from torn hull fragment to a crushed escape pod to a burnt out cockpit. Vadim couldn’t help but mutter to himself: “What are you looking for, then?”

Whatever the vessel was looking for, it didn’t seem to find its target. The light went out a moment later, and nothing else seemed to happen. “CATIE... Calculate a trajectory. I want to get closer to that.”

“User. Be advised, propulsion is unavailable.”

“I know. Vent oxygen supply.”

“User. Venting oxygen to generate thrust is wasteful. Are you sure?”

“Yes. CATIE, do it.”

A sequence of three beeps chirped inside Vadim’s helmet. His visor flickered with numbers, vectors, lines, coordinates. A final beep confirmed the calculation.

“User. Caution. Maneuver will deplete oxygen supply by 42%.”

Vadim nodded in his suit. His fingers curled up into fists.

“Execute maneuver, CATIE.”

-

Vadim barely heard the hiss of escaping pressurised gas. He barely felt the motion at first, but soon he could sense the change in the way the small fragments around him had begun to move toward him rather than in random patterns all around. In the void it was difficult to gauge one’s own motion, but eventually that beige ship began to become obviously larger.

“Why isn’t he moving?” -Vadim wondered to himself. Scavengers weren’t known to waste time by hovering around, and this one wasn’t doing anything as far as he could see. No crew had exited, no scanners seemed to be active. Aside from the light before: nothing. All it would take now, to ruin everything, would be for that ship to fire its thrusters and move off. Vadim whispered a silent prayer that his luck would hold.

As he approached, he began to see more details on the ship. Above the blocky section of hull that clearly housed any cargo, Vadim could see the viewing ports that would allow the crew to look out into space, but there was no light glowing beyond them. It was as if the vessel was dead. A ghost-ship?

“I hope you got room for one more dead man.” -Vadim whispered as he corrected his trajectory to direct himself to one of the two airlocks he could see.

-

The manual overrides were unsecured, and the lever responded to Vadim’s hand with a blink of a light and the movement of the doors. Still, even as the contents of the airlock were vented out into space, nothing indicated to Vadim that the ship or its crew had responded to him in any way.

“User. Be advised, I am picking up vitals of thirty-plus individuals.”

That sounded like an unusually large crew for a freighter, or a scavenger. Was it a refugee ship? Smugglers? Then why had it stopped here. Vadim waited for the airlock to close, and for the pressure to start building up to a point where he could hear the hiss of the airlock around himself. Lights in the ceiling blinked to life, one by one, flickering and buzzing, then stabilising as if they hadn’t been used in a long time. There was a dead woman in the airlock, her arms twisted around a metal bar that served as a handhold. Her head was turned so that she was looking over her shoulder, toward the interior of the ship.

“Atmospherics?” -Vadim queried.

“Breathable.” -CATIE replied.

Vadim moved his hand. It was warmer here, so the layers of frozen gases that had adhered to his suit began to slouch off and float off in the absence of gravity. He tapped his visor in a different spot, and it began to slide up into his helmet. The air had a stale stench to it, and it reeked of coolants, oil and rust. But it was air, and not recycled by his suit. Another tap and Vadim finally dared open the communications channel, safe in the knowledge that at least the ship wouldn’t be able to dash off without him if its crew were startled.

“Unidentified vessel, you are in a combat zone. State your business.” -Vadim called out, the tiny receivers on the collar of his bulky suit picking up his voice and transmitting it in the open to anyone who might hear.

No reply.

“CATIE, is the transmitter working? No signals, still?”

“Confirmed.” -came the reply. She was back to her normal self.

Vadim twisted himself to try and move, and managed to maneuver himself to the wall so that he could grab hold of one of the handholds beside the dead woman. On a closer look she looked like she’d been dead for a long time.

“-llo? You hear me? Hello-o?” The voice came out of nowhere, tinny and distorted, but clearly human. Vadim peered past the dead woman to see a communications panel in the wall. The light on it was green.

“Identify.” -Vadim demanded, though his throat felt dry and the word fell off his lips clumsily.

“Holy sh- you a soldier? You, uh- you got a gun, right? I saw you in the exterior cameras when you came in, but I don’t got a visual on you now.”

Vadim held up his hand as if to silence the source of the voice, though he quickly realised the gesture was meaningless in this situation.

“Identify.” -Vadim repeated, not wanting to play his hand too early. Who knew what sort of a mess he’d landed in. His own weapon had been lost in the detonation, but he could see a sidearm on the belt of the dead woman. A few seconds and the grim memento was in his gloved hand. The pistol felt tiny, like a toy.

“Look, name’s Rowley, and I need your help, whoever you are. I’ve got no comms, no telemetry, no navigation at any distance beyond the system. Jesus-” There was a loud bang in the background. “Look, I can’t talk much, but I need you up on the top level. We’ll figure this out. Stay alive, okay.”

The transmission cut off. The green light blinked and died. Vadim had only found more questions in lieu of answers. With an annoyed motion he brushed off more of the ice breaking off from his suit, then checked the pistol he’d found. No bullets in the magazine. Somewhere ahead, beyond the inner door of the airlock, a voice screamed. It wasn’t a pained scream, or fear, but an animal screech barely recognizable as human.

Vadim pulled the lever that finished the cycle on the airlock, and the inner door began to slide open. The cramped corridor beyond split into two ways, barely lit by rows of yellow-tinted lights set into the ceiling. A few inches above the floor Vadim could see another corpse, this one a man. His eyes were wild, even in death, and in his open mouth Vadim could see rows of teeth filed into sharp points, the lips cut and withdrawn. What had once been a set of orange and yellow overalls had been soiled and torn, revealing gaunt musculature underneath. A long blade fashioned out of some piece of railing and crudely sharpened on one side was still clutched in the bony hand.

“User. Alert. Several vital signs approaching. Agitated.”

“I know.” -Vadim replied grimly as he pushed himself toward the corpse, so he could secure the bladed weapon from its hand. “Fucking degens.” He’d heard of the condition. Space madness. Void dementia. Degeneration.

“In from the cold...” -Vadim remarked grimly, wondering if CATIE would appreciate the sentiment. Beyond a corner in the narrow corridor, the movement of humanoid figures clawing at the walls to propel themselves forward cast flickering shadows.

“...and into the frying pan.”

Spoiler

Not entirely happy with this one. It's hastily written and feel incomplete. I got caught reading a new book, but decided that I wanted to contribute at least SOMETHING to try and get back into the habit of writing again. I'll spend more time and effort on the next one, promise!

[close]

Well, my mood does not swing in this direction. But I am not borg, so I can't say mine is the collective mood. (And isn't it usually 1st= 3 pts; 2nd = 2 pts; 3rd= 1 pt? Your decision, of course.)

I suggest we make it
1st place: 6,97 pts
2st place: 4.42 pts
3th place: 2.29 pts

I am sure we'll all find this most appropriate.

Also, I am feeling writey and have been toying around with this theme for a few days now. Might actually start to write something today, so expect a quick and dirty story with little time for revision, considering the looming deadline. Let us say I'm bringing myself in from the cold, and need to warm myself up by writing something.

I think I can safely say I'm not finishing my game idea anywhere close to a deadline.

The concept I had in mind was a slow-paced game where the player enters the game, gives their little demon minions orders and then exits the game. The game calculates time passed between sessions and generates progress when the player comes back, so that the game can be played by "logging in" every other day to check up on progress, discover new things and to hand out new orders.

Basically, Cookie Clicker but without clicking and cookies.

I've got the core mechanic working, but basically none of the graphics or most of the actual content.

I blame Spelunky 2.

The little imp thinks it's still too light outside. We'll see if we can help the poor little bugger out!

Self solved, thanks to coming across: https://www.adventuregamestudio.co.uk/forums/index.php?topic=34618.msg452801

I had the array definition and export missing, and that thread pointed out the right way to do it.

EDIT:
For clarity, here is my final version:

In the CustomFunctions header:

Code: ags

struct Plot {
  int PlotType;
  int Damage;
  int Graphic;
};

import Plot Plots[40];

In the CustomFunctions script file

Code: ags

Plot Plots[40];
export Plots;

EDIT2: I can't help but say "Plot Plots" out loud whenever I see it written. Is this a bug?

I tried reading up on the search results and found others with similar issues, but wasn't able to quite figure this out, so maybe someone can help me figure this out.

I have created a new script file CustomFunctions to keep certain data and functions separate from the global script, for clarity. I have also added the line for importing it, so it can be used in the global script as well as the various rooms.

In the CustomFunctions.ash (header) I have declared a struct

Code: ags

struct Plot {
  int PlotType;
  int Damage;
  int Graphic;
};

import Plot Plots[40];

However, I was unable to figure out where I should put the export that would pair up with the import.

Currently, trying to write into the array from another script file returns the error
-------
Loading game failed with error:
Script link failed.
Runtime error: unresolved import 'Plots'.

The game files may be incomplete, corrupt or from unsupported version of AGS.
-------

This makes sense, as I am missing the export.

However, attempting to place an export into the CustomFunctions.asc, outside of any function as when exporting functions, like so:

Code: ags

export Plots[40];

Results in the error:
Cannot export an import

Either the location or syntax of the export, or perhaps import, is invalid, but I cannot figure out which one, or how?

Toying around with a possible concept. Been a long time I've done a MAGS, so it would be nice to make something for a change.

A lot of my dislike comes from having really expensive internet. Buying a physical game then being forced to spend more downloading updates than you did on the game is something that sticks with you.

Yeah, I can easily understand and agree with that. Then again the modern patch culture has made it possible to fix game-breaking bugs at a rate that simply wasn't there in the past, so every con has a pro and vice versa. I've refused to buy some modern console games for a similar reason: even if i buy a physical copy, I only get a part of the game and have to download the rest online, meaning that if the download server ever dies, my physical copy becomes worthless.

Some people are a bit paranoid about Steam. To my knowledge Gnrblex doesn't really seem to have any DRM on it, either. In fact I found the easiest way to put it up on itch.io was to download it from Steam, copy the game files into a new .zip and upload those. I had a friend test it for me and it worked fine, sans the Steam achievements.

[GNRBLEX]

Minor necropost, but for a good cause:

GNRBLEX is now also available on itch.io. LINK ->.

It has all the same content as the Steam version, but will not have the achievement functionality, as that is bound to the Steam API.
Also of note: if you have downloaded the older MAGS version or the Steam version previously, these may attempt to share achievement and save data. Attempting to load an old save may cause a crash if the save is from a sufficiently old version.

However, the full story, puzzles and experience is intact and, as always, free to experience.

Have fun out there, and keep your brains safe!

I had no idea that was the case, but now that you mention it, it makes perfect sense.
Thanks!

Bah, I just hadn't figured out the right search terms for the forum.
Defining the function as float from the beginning is the solution.

It's also in the manual, but I didn't quite grasp it until I tested it in action.

Code: ags

float blop() 
{
  return 0.14;
}

A very simple code example:

Code: ags

function blop() 
{
  return 0.14;
}

Produces error:
Type mismatch: cannot convert 'float' to 'int'

Is this a feature, or just a mistake on my part?
Is it not possible for a function to return a value in float?

Hadn't checked in on the GiP board in a while and the first thing I see is this gem in the making!
A rare and quite unusual choice of perspective gives the art a unique look, and I really like the atmosphere on display here. Character design and animation is a prime example of how much can be done with very little in the way of pixel count.

Definitely keeping an eye out for this for when it comes out, and I wish all the best in the project!