This is ridic. Your finger-joint skin has gotten so floppy that you can sink another finger into it, up to the knuckle. How is aging legal.
Angels don't know how to pleasure human partners, but fortunately, as the saying goes, "utter, petrifying fear is the greatest aphrodisiac".
You lie awake and wonder, does your fire spell deserve to be called "Fires of Justice" if you dropped out of law school to fight evil?
"Apply 3-4 times daily. Best used with [lists every single other product on the company's catalogue, just in case it works]."
http://animatedscreenshots.tumblr.com/post/103486630208/esp-ra-de – I should mention that I really like these palm bullets. They seem a striking thematic touch that shmups oft lack.
You thought the phrase "blown so far into Hell, you wake up in the bath with Satan" was just a cutesy expression, until
"In truth, most floating sky cities grew from several sky villages crudely shackled together – far from the vast sky islands of fiction."
The villain hasn't decided what to do with you, but has "gotten some ideas from what happens to me in the Good Ending"…!! No, anything but!
"The only recommended purchase… is preparing to die!!" cries the e-commerce algorithm that you inexplicably became arch-nemeses with.
"Psst! They say Card Shark Monkey has a secret: he's so bold because he doesn't know human money has value! And his manager's bilking him!"
"I must go now, wherever the wind takes me." "Drifter, wait! We have cars and trains now!" But alas, he was gone, fluttering into the sky.
The hangnail you're picking has perniciously peeled right down your arm, over your chest, and up the other arm, but you've got it cornered!
"I'm happy my spouse has been rescued. I'd thank you, but feelings of relief increase my misanthropy to sky-high levels."
You want to hear music, but the sorrow in your chest is your music. You want to watch the ocean, but the sorrow in your chest is your ocean.
Forging this sword yourself seemed an act of strength. But now, with your trust in yourself withered, it has turned brittle in your hands.
http://animatedscreenshots.tumblr.com/post/103749364987/gimmick – As you can tell from this birthday-themed GIF, it's my 28th today.
The wizards trying to make the clouds swirl ominously over their duel are stymied by a different duel two blocks away.
"Can I be the creepy toady who only speaks in robotic phrases?" you beg your leader. "Redundancy… detected!" announces your toady rival.
"Entrepreneurs often court VCs through a "VC triumph", in which they host a parade valorising the VC and their recent life achievements."
I can't believe the One Red Paperclip guy kept going after the blog ended, and is now trading a gas giant for an asteroid belt as we speak.
Your partner isn't used to a world where jewelry doesn't hold dark magical powers. They touch your necklace with fearful wonder.
Ghosts that are only audible when you're listening to loud music on earphones, so loud that you can't ever make out their words.
It's a close election: one seat will put you or Gadzookius in federal office. But, the only seat left is… Gadzookiusland? Pop. 5000 clowns?!
When you and your pals invented circus performer personas to sneak into a crime scene, you didn't know your true selves had finally awoken.
"A true hero burns through all their Christmas tweets in late November, as if preparing to fight Grendel naked." – Pro tweeter wisdom.
"Someville (also known as "Gruesomeville" and "Hellmonster City") has a normal population of 920 and a full moon population of 130,000."
"At last!" hisses the lich as you toss some change into its crowd-funding canopic jar. "I'm past the $10,000 minimum payout threshold!"
(But, a problem here is that the graves, being literally in the string, preclude easy concatenation or slicing of verbatim strings. Hrmmm.)
–I also like that declaring a string which should print verbatim is as simple as using the verbatim markup in it.
The problem, though, is that the interpolation is done at print time, not assignment time, which may be unexpected.
–I was amused to find that due to how string printing works in Twine 2, simple variable interpolation already exists.
You can't handle being touched by a hand that has known no toil. Flesh so soft, it feels like slime.
"I don't need a nation of subjects to make me a queen," murmurs the deposed empress in the dark of the grotto, "I only need you."
Two self-proclaimed Historically Correct Santas stare each other down outside your home – one in green robes, the other in pale vestments.
"Sorry. Ever since you hurt me, I stopped trusting people. Only mathematics." *loops arm around the ± in the quadratic formula*
Beneath your cover, you hear the CEO exaggerating your combat abilities! You're not ready for a product launch!! It's a nightmare come true!
You want to be tackled by your lover, over and over for minutes. Like dozens of tiny baes launched at you by a pitching machine.
I wanted to play some Twine games by Matthias Conrady http://cynik.de/ but AYCS their website is gone without a trace and I'm upset.
"It's still a spellbook if it doesn't tell you how to cast them, but instead has scathing reviews from the harshest wizard critics, right?"
"Uh, he "plummeted through a spiralling chaos of jagged precipices"?" "That's probably just wizard-speak for "fell down the stairs"."
At the end of a day like today's, you just want to come in, peel your face off your head, and splat it onto your partner's shoulder.
You're peeved your school built that crystal tower the year after you graduated – and increased lunch to give you more time to gawk at it!
"Our second, third and fifth Presidents lie in the ossuary. Our first was stolen, and our fourth wasn't any one human in particular."
"I read the words "omg my god" and felt my soul leave my body. Then I saw a spiral flourescent bulb and scurried to safety under my desk."
You're rueing the PondScum style guide, used by 99% of all software. All code is right-aligned? 10 pairs of braces for every block? N-nooo!!
I can't believe the latest Smash patch made the pixel DK in 75m do 2% more damage, thus utterly eviscerating the meta in a typhoon of blood.
You're 20ft tall, have 22,000 hit points, and this mega-spell the 4 heroes are quad-casting unwittingly contains an element that heals you.
"Dracula may have been slain, but as long as his name exists in the autocomplete of humanity's heart, he will return once more…"
"Listen" says the snail, "I wished for these huge beefy arms instead of sending us home to ensure this adventure won't be a complete waste."
The all-consuming black tar may just be tar, and those spells of light and purity didn't just bounce off because "evil will always triumph".
You say goodbye to your partner a little too close to their back this morning – when their wings sprout, you're almost knocked into the air.
The dragon devours you and belches your expired debts up to Heaven. It tastes the sweet release and feels content in its role in the world.
You've run out of time, so you skip to the last step. Unfortunately, it's "Enjoy your new InfestBot-proof energy shield!" Yeah, you'll try.
(Gold is arguably a more sensible colour, as purple collides with both Ghost and Poison's colours, compared to just Electric's yellow.)
Conclusion: in the first generation, psychic powers were actually gold-coloured, and only became purple in subsequent generations.
The city and its gym badge are gold-hued. Furthermore, every pure Psychic-type in the game who doesn't begin with M is also gold-hued.
I had this odd realisation recently: every city in Pokémon Red is coloured to match their gym's type. All of them, that is, except Saffron.
As a child, an accident let your left arm slip past the fence to the human world. No spells can it grasp, no healing charms will it accept.
"The ancients built these cities with vast untold wealth, and now no human alive is rich enough to live in them."
"The human life cycle has 3 stages:" *slide of child crying in lounge* *slide of teen crying in bedroom* *slide of adult crying in kitchen*
"What're we doing today?" "Nothing, computer." "Oh… OK. Then I'll just–" "But you have to be switched on the whole time." "Oh." *hours pass*
An adventure is getting in a bad situation and meeting new friends who help you out! In your case it's just this deep pit and these snails.
Deterioration and disappearance is such a constant in your life that seeing anything survive these years intact merits shock and amazement.
Your paying this month's rent was actually the linchpin keeping the world economy from disintegrating. You try to feel accomplished.
Trivia: The total number of skeletons in Weird Twitter tweets outnumber their real-life creators by 12 to 1.
When your partner notices your debt anxiety creeping in, they primly remind you of your stratospheric kiss debt to them. It helps… sometimes
Keep out of the danger zone.
You notice you're in the company of enough partners for them to hold down both your nipples, your navel and nose, resetting you to defaults.
If the demon awoke while you made out, the plan was to both say "not it". But only she did, and only you became a hideous 7-ft beast knight.
Invisible Doropie vs. a vast unspooled creature.
This one is where I reversed it while optimised, then deoptimised it, then re-reversed it back.
The timestamps flicker, deciding what form they will take. They briefly morph to "12 hours ago", then finally become "less than a year ago".
It's time to shave your legs, so you bid your friends farewell, seal your pod, and prepare yourself for the world of centuries to come.
"Whys it called a shake and not a shook" Little did you know this tweet would catapult you to fame, astound the world and topple a regime.
I can't freaking believe each kitsune tail is equivalent to a Knuth up-arrow in terms of how old the owner is.
You've badly worn down your mattress after months of turning yourself to stone to stave off noise and insomnia.
Your Breakup Punch attack has three hitboxes: the first in your fist, the second in your heart, and the third in your knees due to a bug.
"Got this apartment for $7K. The secret? No bath or shower. I just mosey on down to the laundromat and hop in with a balloonful of air."
Twitter users with RTL name hacks now join the animated avatar cohort as people in unreachable states, that when left cannot be returned to.
You can't believe you discovered a way to remember incredible dream discoveries after you wake up, then awoke before you could memorise it.
You can't believe the curse banished you to Hell for 8 weeks and your rival for 7 weeks 6 days, and they lorded it over you the whole time.
This one has a pretty good narrative arc.
If I fix the start frame at the start, it more closely resembles your average draw-buffer trail glitch.
Your username doesn't have an Underscore of Shame in it… it's a championship belt for world-class socialising.
You try to lure your rival's plucky sidekick over to your side with lurid promises that your apartment has better public transport options.
You're forced to put your life in others' hands so often in the outside world, you nearly forget the joy of giving it willingly in private.
Your partner helps infuse your chest with ectoplasm, to prepare for roleplaying your soul being spooled out on their little finger.
You only remove your anti-aging amulet for sex. Let your body's clock fitfully tick on, if its every minute be filled only with intimacy.
For the first time, you realise you can consume entertainment products after they leave sale. Your choices could constantly grow, forever.
"Isn't it ironic we had to use up the Wishfist to undo the property damage we caused while fighting for the Wishfist?" "…No, not at all."
You forget to hold your breath during an iris-out transition and get some of the black in your sinuses.
Bounteous farms where kinetic typography can frolic and grow old, curling around statues of their namesake actors to their vowels' content
I hope kids play Pokémon X and get honestly misinformed about how often giant rubber spiderwebs appear as building interiors in real life.
No joke, I just imagined every human being suddenly having access to 160 characters, and shivered with an almost erotic feeling of vertigo.
I've been having nightmares where Twitter raises the character limit to 160 in the night and I miss everyone flipping out at the same time.
You WILL place this dotted outline of your new pool in the exact centre of your yard with this finicky mouse if it's the last thing you do!!
Your cursor ducks and weaves through the article, dodging highlighted text to avoid stirring the "top comment on this sentence" hoverbox.
"They always go for my weird cackling head first," mutters the hydra's demure head amid a thick forest of squawking, hooting grins.
"Hi… yeah, sorry, I got really into the ringtone I'd set for you and just let it play through like 30 loops. And uh, now I gotta go, sorry."
"Can't believe one of the seven Millennium Problems is constructing a gender algebra for when 3+ different-gendered beings merge together."
http://www.glorioustrainwrecks.com/node/8622 – After 9 months, I've made a new bugfix update for my Twine 1 <<replace>> macros. I'm sorry for tarrying, everyone.
You have no land but the land between lots – triangular slivers cut by slanted roads, thin wedges near utilities, worthless to all but you.
In your sun-addled state, the structure of a single armoured seedpod speaks more hostility than all the fortresses human hands have raised.
I like that Rosalina has an origin story, and especially that it doesn't actually explain where she got her crypto-deific powers at all.
Watching high-level Smash Bros. play of Rosalina is making me unexpectedly appreciative of Rosalina the character for the first time.
"Don't you suggest you and your antimatter self haven't ever thought of kissing real quickly – so fast that not even physics would notice."
I struggled to recall the word "binder" (as in breast binding) and instead came up with "crusher", "anti-packer" and "WinZip for the chest".
I just heard the opening notes of the Radetzky March come on the radio and instantly mouthed "NO" out of reflex.
"You denied me warmth thinking me a mere beggar, but lo! I am a God! Now, unless you are secretly a vastly greater God, I shall punish you!"
"My stat range makes me ideal at CQC (Cute Queer Cuddling) due to my phenomenal DPS (Duck PyjamaS)."
"The first taste sends you to Heaven, and the last swallow drags you to Hell. To even kiss one who has eaten it is to share their curse."
string_find() string_find_all() string_find_iter() unicode_find() unicode_find_all() unicode_find_iter() utf8_find() utf8_find_all() utf8_fi
(Being able to dynamically name hooks isn't too significant, but its implementation opens the door for more exciting macros like (dial:).)
"Every day, a human's skin extrudes 20 litres of an invisible substance we call "the Gunk", which rots and atrophies everything they touch."
"The first total revolution of all videogames came with Scribblenauts," I lie furiously to the time travelers. "The next was Epic Mickey."
Your scalp is itching directly underneath your massive hair bun, and you've assembled an elite team of fingers to break into its core.
Your ex's music collection was your only connection to not just music culture, but all reality. You wake in a black void after the breakup.
Only snowmen raised on churchgrounds are allowed in Heaven – the rest must earn salvation by blocking a rock-snowball aimed at a child.
The highway shop that sells noses was in collusion with the bridgekeeper who tolls for noses. No one misses their nose until it's too late.
The unifying theme seems to be that these are "poor" places - places whose innate discomfort is not due to neglect, but want.
Faded wallpaper suites. Musty second-hand bookshops. Grimy street underpass tunnels. Bare-timber construction/renovation zones.
This morning I had a dream about staying in a large hotel/lodging made of winding halls and staircases of many different environments.
For a day after returning to your body, you can't help hugging yourself whenever you feel your soul might slide back out.
You start encountering evidence that your friends are faving tweets you didn't write. This must be a mistake.
This giant is politely trying not to exhale while holding you close to their face. You appreciate it, but they look about to asphyxiate.
*cracks knuckles* *rolls up sleeves* *spits in palms* *stretches neck* *doffs jacket* *snaps on gloves* *revs motorcycle* *breaks shackles*
Your lover has returned from Hell on annual leave – this year, in spooky puppet form. They got promoted from sentient book since last year.
You both make the trip to the one hillock where God has no power. Together you watch a leaf, and know its descent is indelible, unstoppable.
"Leon, everyone already did this joke." I have to. I must. "OK, your funeral." Ahem… I can't freaking believe they confirmed Updog for Smas
The robots tried the "Who's on First" skit, but it didn't work. Their characters didn't get angrier as it went on, only more disappointed.
After 35 agonising minutes, you finally break the infinite loop by answering "the person who had until then been joining Pete on the log."
"FWIW, the supernova will also kill everyone who ever hurt us," she added, milking the intrinsic flippant tone of "FWIW" for all it's worth.
You never have to leave this gleaming spiderweb bed strung between the crescent moon's points. Heck, your pee turns into shooting stars.
You only died 10 minutes ago and you're already dangling over Hell, both hands gripping a single delicate strand of a callous angel's hair.
Reluctantly, you accept your body's update patch. You sit on the plastic mat and wait for your numerous extensions to be violently expelled.
"Sorry! I forgot your body isn't magnetic," says your sky launcher's driver as you return to your metallic seat. "I… I could hold you down?"
The dark sky was cleft by a golden stripe – as if a light had switched on behind the doors of Heaven.
Fortunately, your detailed diorama depicting the crime scene in your apartment reaches the correspondence detective agency in one piece.
Aftercare for being squashed flat as a pancake starts with gentle readjustment to physical shape, like being draped over your lover's body.
Whenever your reflection looks cute, your selfies look haggard, and vice versa. To master both at once… until this day, you cannot rest!
"I can't believe a text file called "The Noble Laws of CyberWar" that a teen wrote in 1987 is strictly adhered to by every nation on Earth."
You are addled with strange dreams where you use odd words like "cuties" and "bae", words you've never spoke before. You awaken disoriented.
"Y'know, I throw a lot of shade about time on this show, but I wanna say that 7PM is an outstanding time of day that I couldn't do without."
The ogre's meek understudy sneaks a lick of your back, through your cage. They could be executed for tasting a rare delicacy like yourself.
You could just paint big freckles over your acne scars, you suddenly realise. This is huge. This is a new page of human history.
"Ne'er the Twain shall meet" he uttered, before an elite squad of mercenaries broke into this tweet to prevent the pun from being completed.
She assures you her acidic saliva is neutralised by swishing with toothpaste. You both go for the kiss… you love it, but your lips do not!
"Legality of fanworks is quantified in terms of Mewtwos per story. 1 Mewtwo = illegal, 2 Mewtwos = super illegal, 10 Mewtwos = giga illegal"
One thing I feel odd about is "?item.position" - I feel like Twine 2 is indelibly non-OO, and OO-ish magic properties like this sit unwell.
Yet more Twine 2. Thinking up a macro, (dial:), that could have the features of my Twine 1 <<revision>> macros.
"Is it possible to pull your lover's hair so authoritatively that they start literally thinking your thoughts? Asking cuz I think I did it."
""The huge octopus crushing our habitation dome can't be that tough! Let's beat it up!" …We all thought like that when we arrived… even I."
Yeah, your ex seems to be doing better than ever, but you can still win this breakup by collecting all five cards of the Forbidden One and
You both discover after the breakup that you robbed each other's music collections… This is the most Gift of the Magi thing to ever happen.
To that end, I wonder if (rewrite:) would be better, while also changing (print:) to (write:)… except "print" is pretty entrenched in Twine.
A counterpoint, though: (reprint:) doesn't really convey the same sense of "full textual substitution" that (replace:) does.
I hadn't noticed until now that (print:) establishes a UI metaphor distinguishing rendered visible content from low-level string data.
The name "replace" should really be kept for a string replacement macro, and the name "reprint" has satisfying commonality with (print:).
Twine 2: I've become convinced I must rename (replace:), the macro that replaces specific passage prose with other prose, to (reprint:).
Arcadian, pastoral skeletons with flowers for eyes, ivy on their spine, their ribs replaced with harp strings, sweet panpipes for teeth.
"A fart is a special kind of air your body creates itself. It's trying, unknowing, to fulfill its primordial desire: to grow into a world."
"I wish to make a personal statement about sex. Yes, just once in my teens I kept my eyes open during the process. I have not repeated this"
"We taste like candy to them. We are candy that thinks. In this world, we are all but candy that God cruelly gave hopes, dreams and fears."
I went outside for a night jog and saw like a hundred bats flying over in the course of 10 minutes… Happy Halloween from Terror Australis.
"Every year they meet in a hotel so exclusive, it can only be entered from the rooms of a different, bigger hotel."
"The programmer takes the results of expressions into their hand – ephemeral, fragile – and may gently pass them on, or let them blow away."
"If you see a glow under any of the other doors lining your room, don't worry," you tell your lodger, "they only open to bare walls."
You want to leave the table, but the odd woman who fed your party is still here, watching your full bellies with a quiet, anticipatory grin.