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Guy A. Person
May 23, 2003

Kruxy posted:

"C'mon you loving piece of poo poo fucker!" Wade shrieked. The excitebike groaned in protest. Wade torqued the little throttle to its limit and the little muffler squirted little pixels of exhaust. Even with the Pit Bull engines assisting, the tiny cycle was pushing the limits of its bytes. The concussive quakes on Wade's tail rumbled closer.

An explosion of earth and source code sent Wade rocketing into the sky. The ground opened up below him into a fractured grin. He stared in disbelief as the fissure became smaller and smaller in his HUD. Goddamn he was high. Like "it's a good thing that the OASIS doesn't require an atmosphere" high. He felt his ascent slow as he reached the parabola's apex.

Wade was dropping back to the ground at an alarming speed. The physics engine was breaking under the server strain. Suddenly, Donkey Kong's enormous head broke through the crack in the landscape beneath him. Wade screamed as he plummeted towards that gaping maw, his tiny arms and legs flailing fruitlessly.

*record scraaaaaaaaaaaaatch*

"I'll bet you're wondering how I got in this situation."

lmao nice

EDIT: ughhhh terrible page topper, sorry

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Mel Mudkiper
Jan 19, 2012

At this point, Mudman abruptly ends the conversation. He usually insists on the last word.
I unironically dig the phrase "an explosion of earth and source code"

chitoryu12
Apr 24, 2014

So I took part of Chapter 1 and changed it to third-person, since a complaint was the continued use of first-person perspective. Does this feel any different with a perspective switch?

quote:

Wade Watts' hands stuck a little to the frozen rung of the ladder; the only pair of gloves he owned were haptic. The snow crunching under his sneakers as he hit the ground was a dirty gray even this far out from the Oklahoma City industrial zone. The sky seemed to be a permanent mist even out here in the stacks. Sometimes the fog came down far enough that the whole field of rusty corrugated steel towers faded away like ghosts. Most of the time it was just his unit, all the way at the top of Stack 42, left swaying in the clouds.

Today, Wade's focus was on the ground. Every day, Wade's focus was on the ground. Watching for freezing mud puddles that would flow over his ankles and ruin his socks, or uneven patches of dirt that would set him stumbling. His head swiveled left and right at each intersection for any signs of life other than himself. He heard the usual noises as he passed each stack: screaming fights, electronic music blaring and someone demanding that the drat racket get turned down before they fired a gun through the ceiling, a husband pounding on a door to be let back in. Not a single person that he wanted to experience more of than hearing them as he passed.

His destination never changed on any day. The junkyard was older than even his parents or his Aunt Alice, mostly formed from the oxidized hulks of gas-guzzlers without enough gas to guzzle. The mounds of antique cars were the only place in the neighborhood that nobody else went to, picked clean of anything more useful than disintegrating scrap metal. Wade had long gotten used to the smell of rust, dried oil, and occasional decomposing cat that kept everyone else away.

Even if someone decided to poke through the old vehicles and appliances, few would ever think to squeeze through the tunnel formed from where a sea foam green 2058 Chrysler Conqueror fell over and lodged against the neighboring stack. Even as skinny as Wade was, he still had some trouble in his winter coat without accidentally tearing another hole on a jutting piece of rust. And if they bothered to crawl all the way to the end of that cold, dark passageway, where any small vibration could bring about a collapse, the only thing they’d run into was a pair of locked van doors. They’d try the doors, think to themselves that it might all come down on their heads if they started busting them in, and leave. Just the way Wade preferred it.

He turned the old key in the lock and crawled inside, the doors latching shut behind me.

There were stacks in here, too. Laptops, tablets, and smartphones piled from corner to corner, all five feet and seven inches to the ceiling in some places. They were roughly divided into broken on one side and fixed on the other, ready for sale or return. A laser keyboard projector skittered across the ground as his shoe knocked it aside, echoing clangs until it settled against a plastic bin full of broken visors. He had two peeling posters for Liar’s Connection and The Hotel at The Edge Of Time that he got mailed for free with the movie tickets. His latest food delivery was still half-full, the neck of a scratched Yamaha guitar pinning a box of powdered eggs to the wall under a little plastic end table. A small space heater next to the table made it a bit more bearable than the outside.

In the middle of the van was Wade's home.

Hanging from the ceiling on their charging cords was a black visor and nylon gloves etched with traces of silver, above a waist-high metal ring that he had secured to the walls of the van. A small omnidirectional treadmill was installed in the floor, small enough that he didn’t need to cut out the bottom of the van to fit it. The little table had a black box much like everyone else’s black boxes, with “GSS” written in white on the side.

Sham bam bamina!
Nov 6, 2012

ƨtupid cat
I'm having serious trouble picturing a van big enough for someone to stand up inside, let alone walk on a VR treadmill. I guess it works if it's a cargo van; maybe you should mention that explicitly.

Edit: This is the best version so far, but there are still some seriously bad sentences here. Worst: "Not a single person that he wanted to experience more of than hearing them as he passed." This kind of writing shouldn't survive almost a month of revisions. Just read this stuff out loud and try to rephrase it into something that sounds like a person expressing clear thought, rather than a ramshackle stack (sorry) of words. Also, you left a rogue "me" in that middle sentence.

Sham bam bamina! fucked around with this message at 17:30 on May 17, 2018

Lex Neville
Apr 15, 2009
There's still a 'me' in there! Oops. In all seriousness, the perspective change is an improvement.

You need to be careful with 'playful' stuff like this, though:

quote:

Today, Wade's focus was on the ground. Every day, Wade's focus was on the ground.

This one's pretty ham-fisted and, frankly, it doesn't work. If you really want to keep the repetition for the sake of style, you're better off doing something like: "Wade's focus was on the ground. Every day, his focus was on the ground" - which, honestly, is still clumsy, but the emphasis on today implies a juxtaposition and the reader is left hanging. A little bit of such fuckery can be great, but this is pushing it - especially since it's the opening to a new paragraph.

Something similar occurs here:

quote:

mostly formed from the oxidized hulks of gas-guzzlers without enough gas to guzzle.

and here:

quote:

The snow crunching under his sneakers as he hit the ground was a dirty gray even this far out from the Oklahoma City industrial zone. The sky seemed to be a permanent mist even out here in the stacks.

Also, you're still prone to verbosity:

quote:

Not a single person Nothing to which that he wanted wished to be exposed any longer than necessary experience any more of than hearing them as he passed.
(This one's real bad.)

quote:

His destination never changed on any day.
(I get it, what with the emphasis on today and every day, but it doesn't work.)

quote:

His head swiveled left and right at each intersection looking for any signs of life other than himself.
(He's alone, looking for other signs of life. Other than himself goes without saying.)

quote:

They’d try the doors, think to themselves that it might all come down on their heads if they started busting them in, and leave. Just the way Wade preferred it.
(I'd suggest something along the lines of ", as was intended", since you seem to focus on matter-of-factliness.)

A few examples. As I said, though, structurally, the new perspective works a lot better. Try not to reach on a micro-level.

chitoryu12
Apr 24, 2014

All right, I've taken out or modified those sentences. How's this?

quote:

Wade Watts' hands stuck a little to the frozen rung of the ladder; the only pair of gloves he owned were haptic. The snow crunching under his sneakers as he hit the ground was a dirty gray even this far out from the Oklahoma City industrial zone. The sky seemed to be a permanent mist here in the stacks. Sometimes the fog came down far enough that the whole field of rusty corrugated steel towers faded away like ghosts. Most of the time it was just his unit, all the way at the top of Stack 42, left swaying in the clouds.

Wade's focus was on the ground, just like every day. Watching for freezing mud puddles that would flow over his ankles and ruin his socks, or uneven patches of dirt that would set him stumbling. His head swiveled left and right at each intersection for any signs of life. He heard the usual noises as he passed each stack: screaming fights, electronic music blaring and someone demanding that the drat racket get turned down before they fired a gun through the ceiling, a husband pounding on a door to be let back in. Not a single person that he wanted to be closer to.

His destination never changed. The junkyard was older than even his parents or his Aunt Alice, mostly formed from the oxidized hulks of obsolete gas-guzzlers. The mounds of antique cars were the only place in the neighborhood that nobody else went to, picked clean of anything more useful than disintegrating scrap metal. Wade had long gotten used to the smell of rust, dried oil, and occasional decomposing cat that kept everyone else away.

Even if someone decided to poke through the old vehicles and appliances, few would ever think to squeeze through the tunnel formed from where a sea foam green 2058 Chrysler Conqueror fell over and lodged against the neighboring stack. Even as skinny as Wade was, he still had some trouble in his winter coat without accidentally tearing another hole on a jutting piece of rust. And if they bothered to crawl all the way to the end of that cold, dark passageway, where any small vibration could bring about a collapse, the only thing they’d run into was a pair of locked van doors. They’d try the doors, think to themselves that it might all come down on their heads if they started busting them in, and leave.

He turned the old key in the lock and crawled inside, the doors latching shut behind him.

There were stacks in here, too. Laptops, tablets, and smartphones piled from corner to corner, all five feet and seven inches to the ceiling in some places. They were roughly divided into broken on one side and fixed on the other, ready for sale or return. A laser keyboard projector skittered across the ground as his shoe knocked it aside, echoing clangs until it settled against a plastic bin full of broken visors. He had two peeling posters for Liar’s Connection and The Hotel at The Edge Of Time that he got mailed for free with the movie tickets. His latest food delivery was still half-full, the neck of a scratched Yamaha guitar pinning a box of powdered eggs to the wall under a little plastic end table. A small space heater next to the table made it a bit more bearable than the outside.

In the middle of the van was Wade's home.

Hanging from the ceiling on their charging cords was a black visor and nylon gloves etched with traces of silver, above a waist-high metal ring that he had secured to the walls of the van. A small omnidirectional treadmill was installed in the floor, small enough that he didn’t need to cut out the bottom of the van to fit it. The little table had a black box much like everyone else’s black boxes, with “GSS” written in white on the side.

Lex Neville
Apr 15, 2009
I mean no offence, but take more than just a few minutes revising. The things I mentioned are to be taken as examples, not an exhaustive list.

As an aside, it's funny that the ladder sticks to his hand now because that's what I thought of when I imagined holding an ice cube, rather than 'slippery'.

Also, you're listing noises. The shift to 'person' is a little distracting, primarily because of the electronic music.

chitoryu12
Apr 24, 2014

Lex Neville posted:

Also, you're listing noises. The shift to 'person' is a little distracting, primarily because of the electronic music.

Could you explain a little more about the problem with the shift?

I'm still working on copying this into my outside draft and revising the rest of the chapter.

Sham bam bamina!
Nov 6, 2012

ƨtupid cat
This isn't really addressing the problem. I could continue Lex Neville's nitpicking indefinitely ("occasional decomposing cat" as a mass noun, two inappropriate uses of "formed from", the floor of a van being called "the ground"), but what would be the point? Even if all possible complaints were pointed out and fixed, it would still be after the fact and on an individual basis, and running through this forum-mediated process for every scrap of an ostensible full-length novel is impossible. You need to work on your writing skills themselves first before trying to take on a serious project like this.

Sham bam bamina! fucked around with this message at 17:58 on May 17, 2018

Dave Syndrome
Jan 11, 2007
Look, Bernard. Bernard, look. Look. Bernard. Bernard. Look. Bernard. Bernard. Bernard! Bernard. Bernard. Look, Bernard! Bernard. Bernard! Bernard! Look! Bernard! Bernard. Bernard! Bernard, look! Look! Look, Bernard! Bernard! Bernard, look! Look! Bern
I thought for a long time that the first-person perspective was an integral part of the story, but strangely enough, it does seem to read a lot better in third person. It'll be interesting to see how well third person perspective holds up when it comes to scenes in which Wade's internal thought processes become central to the plot.

chitoryu12
Apr 24, 2014

Dave Syndrome posted:

I thought for a long time that the first-person perspective was an integral part of the story, but strangely enough, it does seem to read a lot better in third person. It'll be interesting to see how well third person perspective holds up when it comes to scenes in which Wade's internal thought processes become central to the plot.

If we're doing third person omniscient, we can still have his internal thought processes. It'll just be coming from the perspective of an omniscient narrator rather than Wade describing his own thoughts to the reader.

Lex Neville
Apr 15, 2009
The shift doesn't work on two levels. One is semantic: there's a thought leap going on between 'electronic music' and 'fights' as inanimate noises and the people behind said noises. You don't want to have your reader make that leap if you don't need to. And you don't need to. The other and more important one is thematic: you're trying to show his alienation - and disconnecting the noises from their sources, the people, works - but this then turns around and actively connects the two. It's the opposite of what a jadedly alienated person would do and your focalisation should reflect his disconnectedness - which incidentally is pretty much exactly the kind of consideration I hoped to guide you towards by posting that exercise a while ago.

More importantly, though, I want re-iterate (like Sham Bam just did) that it's not about these examples. The first two sentences of that post should be the takeaway, not the bit in spoiler tags. Some bits and pieces work, but others don't appear to have any kind of consideration going on below the surface and that's what needs fixing.

Lex Neville fucked around with this message at 18:20 on May 17, 2018

chitoryu12
Apr 24, 2014

Lex Neville posted:

The shift doesn't work on two levels. One is semantic: there's a thought leap going on between 'electronic music' and 'fights' as inanimate noises and the people behind said noises. You don't want to have your reader make that leap if you don't need to. And you don't need to. The other and more important one is thematic: you're trying to show his alienation - and disconnecting the noises from their sources, the people, works - but this then turns around and actively connects the noises to people. It's the opposite of what a jadedly alienated person would do and your focalisation should reflect his disconnectedness - which incidentally is pretty much exactly the kind of consideration I hoped to guide you towards by posting that exercise a while ago.

I can rework it, but I'm not sure I agree with you on your interpretation of the alienation. This version of Wade is alienated due to social anxiety (whereas the original is alienated mostly because Cline says he is). It's a fear of missteps and conflict that can occur with social interaction, manifesting as an irrational fear of talking to or being around people. Aech is his only friend because she's the one person who actually put effort into trying to befriend him regardless of his anxiety and Wade was eventually able to drop some of his barriers around her, at least with the distance OASIS provides. His alienation and lack of social interaction doesn't really have anything to do with being jaded. His problem is specifically with the people.

Right now, I have the second chapter going into more detail with that. We get the first glimpses of it here when he's trying to avoid people, but the second chapter has him logging in and going to class so it deals more directly with him making his way through (virtual) crowds and being bullied.

Actually, that does bring up something about the second half of this chapter that I haven't posted. It talks about Wade's parents and how they died, Wade's distaste for the real world and his fear of death (specifically the concept of non-existence), and his use of OASIS to cope with that as a distraction.

Is there a risk of that conflicting with the social anxiety? Is there a possibility that it might make it seem like his lack of interaction is due to just being a cynic trying to distract himself from a lovely existence?

Lex Neville
Apr 15, 2009
I haven't read the original so I can't help you on a structural level, but I do think you shouldn't move on to one just yet.

Kruxy
May 19, 2004

Just a steel town girl on
a Saturday night, looking
for the fight of her life

Why are Wade and Helen friends? It's something that's going to need an answer, considering the changes you've made in your overall treatment.

Helen is no longer a student and Wade is no longer an obsessive hunter, so they would have no reason to have interacted at all since the only tenuous connection they had in the original was their obsessive compulsive fascination with all of the inconsequential minutiae that made up Halliday's life.

In your new treatment, Helen is still super obsessed with all things 80s, but Wade is not. She's a semi-famous charismatic hunter. She has endorsement deals and nothing but time for tournaments and hunting since she's not a student burdened with homework and schooldays. Why would she and Wade have even ever met or become best friends since the only thing they had in common to begin was the fixation on 80s nostalgia and indiscriminate pop culture consumption.

Stuporstar
May 5, 2008

Where do fists come from?

Dave Syndrome posted:

I thought for a long time that the first-person perspective was an integral part of the story, but strangely enough, it does seem to read a lot better in third person. It'll be interesting to see how well third person perspective holds up when it comes to scenes in which Wade's internal thought processes become central to the plot.


chitoryu12 posted:

If we're doing third person omniscient, we can still have his internal thought processes. It'll just be coming from the perspective of an omniscient narrator rather than Wade describing his own thoughts to the reader.

Third person omniscient is when the narrator knows the thoughts of all the characters. You're allowed to reveal the viewpoint character's thoughts in third person limited. Limited means only what that character experiences, which includes direct thoughts.

What you're both probably thinking of is what's called "camera eye" third person, where no internal thoughts or the narrator's judgments are allowed. That's type of third person is not recommended for this kind of novel.

But if you, as the storyteller, want to get all judgey on the main character's rear end, the omnicient viewpoint is the one you're looking for.

Mel Mudkiper
Jan 19, 2012

At this point, Mudman abruptly ends the conversation. He usually insists on the last word.
I noticed that you are reliant on a simple active tense SVO sentence structure. This is not necessarily a bad thing, but one of the problems with how you use it is that you are constantly changing the subject. Simple terse sentences work best when the subject remains unchanged.

As you original wrote the intro

quote:

Wade Watts' hands stuck a little to the frozen rung of the ladder; the only pair of gloves he owned were haptic. The snow crunching under his sneakers as he hit the ground was a dirty gray even this far out from the Oklahoma City industrial zone. The sky seemed to be a permanent mist here in the stacks. Sometimes the fog came down far enough that the whole field of rusty corrugated steel towers faded away like ghosts. Most of the time it was just his unit, all the way at the top of Stack 42, left swaying in the clouds.

It comes off jagged and poorly flowing because although the focus of the passage, Wade, is unchanging, the subject of each sentence focuses on something else. This is not necessarily a bad thing, its not that every sentence has to start with Watts as the subject. However, if you are going to switch subjects, you want to make sure there is a logical rhetorical flow between them. Try to reshape the grammar so that the reader is guided through a single focuses vision rather than several smaller ones.

For example.

quote:

Wade Watts' hands stuck a little to the frozen rung of the ladder; the only pair of gloves he owned were haptic. He landed with a crunch onto the dirty gray snow below . Even this far from the industrial zone, the snow was still gray. Everything in the stacks was gray. The sky seemed to be a permanent gray mist. Sometimes the mist came down far enough that the whole field of rusty corrugated steel towers faded away like ghosts. Only his tower, the tallest, was left visible and swaying above the clouds

If I change the subject, I make sure there is a coherent marker in the previous sentence that helps guide the reader's understanding of the narrative flow of ideas.

Also as an aside, I really don't think the semi-colon in that first line works.

quote:

Wade Watts' hands stuck a little to the frozen rung of the ladder. The only pair of gloves he owned were haptic, and he dared not risk ruining them

Mel Mudkiper fucked around with this message at 17:39 on May 18, 2018

Kruxy
May 19, 2004

Just a steel town girl on
a Saturday night, looking
for the fight of her life

I thought I'd give a go at a dumb prologue. I'm no writer, so tear this poo poo up.


quote:

The world around Wade derezzed and artifacted into a pixelated messy blur. A server reset. No, not a server reset. An entire system reboot? Had that even ever happened before at any point in the last century? The world felt different, like it was unspooling new code. Wade blinked and squinted as everything resolved from the blinding intensity of open QLEDS into a room. A small visitation room, no bigger than the classroom he had just been sitting in.

The parlor was sunny and stale. Dust motes hung in the light that spilled through the stained glass windows. On one side, Mario floated, his hand curled in a gesture of blessing, head encircled by a ring of divinity. On the other, Pac-Man’s golden body gobbled down dots and holy ghosts. The room was full of these effects. Winks and nods and references, probably. A shelf of antique Funko Pop. Foxed blister packs. Weathered joysticks. The amorphous undulating static of a vintage RondureRim. Heavy damask curtains embossed with maps(?). Dragons(?). Maybe. There was a lot to take in, but it all felt so affected and artificial. Trying to be witty and solemn at the same time, it just came off as goofy.

And there in the middle of this sacrilege was a casket. Dark and oiled and mahogany and brassed and generic. Contrasted against the miscellany in the room, the coffin seemed like an afterthought. An uninspired prop. In the casket was the desiccated husk of a human in their finest burial t-shirt. Cheekbones stretched against the fragile flesh above it. Everything pinched and sunken into the skull beneath it. Have you ever thought about the fact that everyone has a skeleton inside them, cause if you hadn’t before, then you were distressingly aware of it now. A thin grey memory of hair caught the light and gave the outline of the scalp the faintest of glows. Quarters sat heavily on the eyelids, like they might tear through that rice paper skin and sink into the congealed humour below.

Living to be 141 looked awesome.

A solemn mourner walked in, stage right. Hands clasped in a fig leaf, head tilted down, black jeans and one of those novelty tuxedo graphic tees. A keen eye might have noticed that the bereaved shared features with the cadaver behind him. Maybe familial? There was probably a good 80 or 90 years age difference between the two.

The man looked up and made eye contact with Wade. An uncomfortably silent, unblinking emotionless stare.

"Hi [Wade], sorry to bother you right now, but… as you can see… I died. hosed up, I know." The man nodded his head in the direction of the corpse behind him. "I look like poo poo, right?"

"Well [Wade] I just wanted to let you know cause you’re in my will. Well, I mean, everyone’s in my will but most importantly, [Wade], you are."

That was the first time Wade met James Halliday.

Mel Mudkiper
Jan 19, 2012

At this point, Mudman abruptly ends the conversation. He usually insists on the last word.
Dialog is a little too self aware but I do appreciate how it has a very strong hook

Sham bam bamina!
Nov 6, 2012

ƨtupid cat
Dumb little thing that's been bugging me through all of this: Either the only gloves he owned were haptic, or the only pair was haptic. Number has to agree.

chitoryu12
Apr 24, 2014

Mel Mudkiper posted:

I noticed that you are reliant on a simple active tense SVO sentence structure. This is not necessarily a bad thing, but one of the problems with how you use it is that you are constantly changing the subject. Simple terse sentences work best when the subject remains unchanged.

As you original wrote the intro


It comes off jagged and poorly flowing because although the focus of the passage, Wade, is unchanging, the subject of each sentence focuses on something else. This is not necessarily a bad thing, its not that every sentence has to start with Watts as the subject. However, if you are going to switch subjects, you want to make sure there is a logical rhetorical flow between them. Try to reshape the grammar so that the reader is guided through a single focuses vision rather than several smaller ones.

For example.


If I change the subject, I make sure there is a coherent marker in the previous sentence that helps guide the reader's understanding of the narrative flow of ideas.

Also as an aside, I really don't think the semi-colon in that first line works.

All right, this is good feedback. I'll work on the chapter in private to take this into account and post when I have a more updated draft.

I'm definitely having trouble thinking about how the book is going to go when we reach the more blatant pop culture stuff. It feels like it might be a bit of a jarring switch to go from Depression Wade walking around a trash heap and avoiding interacting with people to adventuring around in the 80s pop culture.

chitoryu12 fucked around with this message at 19:18 on May 18, 2018

Samizdata
May 14, 2007

chitoryu12 posted:

All right, this is good feedback. I'll work on the chapter in private to take this into account and post when I have a more updated draft.

I'm definitely having trouble thinking about how the book is going to go when we reach the more blatant pop culture stuff. It feels like it might be a bit of a jarring switch to go from Depression Wade walking around a trash heap and avoiding interacting with people to adventuring around in the 80s pop culture.

Not so much if you concentrate on showing what a bland, ugly, dirty grind Wade's day to day life is.

chitoryu12
Apr 24, 2014

Samizdata posted:

Not so much if you concentrate on showing what a bland, ugly, dirty grind Wade's day to day life is.

I think the problem that we might face is that the 80s stuff is kinda patently ridiculous but also meant to be fun and nostalgic. I know we're playing with Wade's new incredulity and deeper flaws, but I'm not sure if the writing style will end up clashing with it when we start getting seriously into the virtual setting.

That's a problem the original book didn't really have because Wade and Aech didn't have much personality beyond obsessing over 80s pop culture, and the book itself was about obsessing over 80s pop culture so it was all consistent in its blandness (at least until the weird sex robot stuff and the vague tonal shift to cyberpunk after Wade escapes IOI).

Sham bam bamina!
Nov 6, 2012

ƨtupid cat
Never mind.

Sham bam bamina! fucked around with this message at 20:51 on May 18, 2018

Kruxy
May 19, 2004

Just a steel town girl on
a Saturday night, looking
for the fight of her life

Egg hunting fever infected the world. A global zeitgeist. The media was enamored with this new epidemic and news networks around the world began developing programming dedicated solely to the phenomenon. Each featured a steady parade of experts and analysts and theorists and pundits. The Scoreboard joined the stock ticker crawl at the bottom of broadcasts.

It was Felix Wilkers on FoxCast's Wilkers News Hour who first coined the portmanteau "gunters" for the most zealous of searchers. The Egg Hunters. The Gunters. An unpleasant word that conjured images of lazy basement-dwellers jacked into OASIS in their parents' basements, greasy panni hanging over stained underwear, the sour smell of outcasts who had forgone all basic hygiene and self-care in pursuit of imaginary riches.

It became a very popular term with Hunt Critics.

Unsurprisingly, those dedicated to the quest hated the word. They came from all walks of life, countries, races and backgrounds. "Gunter" just lumped them all together as a bunch of losers.

#NotAllHunters

A more popular description took hold. Originating from Clan Oviraptor, they called themselves Jägers. It conjured images of the righteous hero. Of swords and guns and mechs. Of laden belts and holsters and leather. Of the collected adventurer with a coolheaded wit. Of a crusade against injustice and wicked intent. Sure, it might not have been technically accurate. It wasn't specifically an 1980's thing, but it seemed close enough. A name steeped in popular culture in video games, movies, manga and anime.

But mostly it just sounded really badass.

BravestOfTheLamps
Oct 12, 2012

by FactsAreUseless
Lipstick Apathy

Kruxy posted:

Egg hunting fever infected the world. A global zeitgeist. The media was enamored with this new epidemic and news networks around the world began developing programming dedicated solely to the phenomenon. Each featured a steady parade of experts and analysts and theorists and pundits. The Scoreboard joined the stock ticker crawl at the bottom of broadcasts.

It was Felix Wilkers on FoxCast's Wilkers News Hour who first coined the portmanteau "gunters" for the most zealous of searchers. The Egg Hunters. The Gunters. An unpleasant word that conjured images of lazy basement-dwellers jacked into OASIS in their parents' basements, greasy panni hanging over stained underwear, the sour smell of outcasts who had forgone all basic hygiene and self-care in pursuit of imaginary riches.

It became a very popular term with Hunt Critics.

Unsurprisingly, those dedicated to the quest hated the word. They came from all walks of life, countries, races and backgrounds. "Gunter" just lumped them all together as a bunch of losers.

#NotAllHunters

A more popular description took hold. Originating from Clan Oviraptor, they called themselves Jägers. It conjured images of the righteous hero. Of swords and guns and mechs. Of laden belts and holsters and leather. Of the collected adventurer with a coolheaded wit. Of a crusade against injustice and wicked intent. Sure, it might not have been technically accurate. It wasn't specifically an 1980's thing, but it seemed close enough. A name steeped in popular culture in video games, movies, manga and anime.

But mostly it just sounded really badass.

This is basically decent. Can't imagine it will be added in though.

Kruxy
May 19, 2004

Just a steel town girl on
a Saturday night, looking
for the fight of her life

help. I can't stop writing fanfic junk.

Ok, so if I were giving away hundreds of billions of dollars and control over the biggest company/product in the world, you better believe that I'm not gonna write lovely uneven quatrains and clunky limericks. I'm probably not even going to tell people what they are looking for in the first place or getting in the end - in so many words.

All sonnets, all the time.


First sonnet recited in the Death announcement. The only clue everyone gets for free:

Triumvirate of copper, jade and quartz
Skeletons sheltered in knowledge occult
In confidence strewn all over the source
Exhuming demands sequential results
A gate for each master, pilgrims pray heed
These crypts are concealed so one must observe
Each ingress unearthed in order of keyed
A sextet of mysteries to unearth
Quests need a legend to guide through the straits
A standard to keep, clues within phrases
The next stanza of my elegy waits
Chronicled in the almanac’s pages
They with the guile to decipher this trial
Will pluck the reward of Anorak’s Isle



Second sonnet hidden and coded within the pages of the almanac:

As bits top the post the shoulder stands flank
O opening bow, vestigial sprue
Burnished patina encircles the shank
The seekers keen eye interpreting clues
Dread sepulcher awaits the apprentice
Mark, young disciple and sharpen thy wits
A chamber of aged stonework portentous
Specters and horrors and villains and pits
Dear scholar come join my grave of regrets
Down’s the way forward, your back to the skies
If charlatans were to sidestep the threats
Don’t trust the designs, cartographers lie
The quarry gives chase, make haste retinue
The faithful go hunt; the dirge continues

Kruxy
May 19, 2004

Just a steel town girl on
a Saturday night, looking
for the fight of her life

arghgh... I can't stop rewriting Cline's lovely clues.


Jade Key

Ok so this one is different. I figure Zork is just something that Cline was really into (like every other reference), but I thought that Halliday would be more interested in the stepping stone achievements that eventually led to OASIS. So instead, this test is based on Colossal Cave Adventure. The first interactive fiction.

The problem with Zork is that the quest is all "do all of the actions as fast as you can. the end."

So not only is the actual map for Colossal Cave Adventure huge.



but I was thinking that all of the rooms and paths would be procedurally generated every time you enter, so don't leave and come back in or you'll have to start over.. Then you can't use your hud to cheat and it's different for every single person going in. You don't get to go in and just speedrun something with a GameFAQs walkthrough.

Additionally, the key is described in detail in the sonnet because at the end, instead of just blowing a stupid whistle, it get's all Last Crusade-y on you and you're greeted with a room with many keys and you have to pick the one described. And it's coded in such a way that you can't screenshot it and show someone else what the correct key looks like and you can't take it out of your inventory to show someone either. Choosing the wrong key results in failing the quest.

And to actually give the quest some consequences for failing, you only get to try to win three times. If you fail all three times, your entire avatar resets to its state when you won the Copper Key. Earned a bunch of XP -- it's gone. Got a bunch of money -- gone. Found some cool weapons -- gone. You'll have to earn all of that stuff back if you want to try for the Jade Key again.

Old sage in robes of wispy olive black
Wears a collar. There’s delicate threading
The tip on the stem pushing pinning back
Bypasses wards impeding your heading
A labyrinth waits deep 'neath the earth
Tangled and monstrous, mettle its purpose
Envision your passage; brilliance is dearth
Should you give up your maps will be worthless
Ten and half more quite fine treasured wonders
Diligence tested with this second class
A trio of tries, but if you blunder
All progress you'll lose since copper was grasped.
Depart now spelunkers, separately
Another verse shapes my long threnody



Crystal Key

I didn't change the main quest idea here, but the clue actually has to be deciphered and isn't just a picture of the album cover. Hey, recognize this album? Yep, that where the key is. farrrrrrt.

I don't know enough about Rush, so this is as good as any. I figure, instead of it being about an album that Halliday liked, that he was choosing the various quest representations based on the lessons they taught. (I guess, though, since the main character dude kills himself at the end of the album it's not a great lesson overall). The quest still needs something more than just "find a guitar exactly where the songs say it is and then play Rock Band"

Grown of the earth and sculpted to scheming
Clearly displaying intention and goal
A shaft of pure light notchèd and gleaming
Revolving and tumbling into its role
This haven is vast, resources plenty
This simulation, though, isn’t the law
Whisper the psalm, the pulpit’s not empty
The priests are still here, their lies are still flawed
Peter’s horns mark the dawning and ending
Ringing the firmament’s foul crimson sign
Be the dissenter, be the unbending
Be the creator and birth new designs
Be the procession, establish a choir
As we converge on my funeral pyre

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chitoryu12
Apr 24, 2014

Kruxy posted:

Egg hunting fever infected the world. A global zeitgeist. The media was enamored with this new epidemic and news networks around the world began developing programming dedicated solely to the phenomenon. Each featured a steady parade of experts and analysts and theorists and pundits. The Scoreboard joined the stock ticker crawl at the bottom of broadcasts.

It was Felix Wilkers on FoxCast's Wilkers News Hour who first coined the portmanteau "gunters" for the most zealous of searchers. The Egg Hunters. The Gunters. An unpleasant word that conjured images of lazy basement-dwellers jacked into OASIS in their parents' basements, greasy panni hanging over stained underwear, the sour smell of outcasts who had forgone all basic hygiene and self-care in pursuit of imaginary riches.

It became a very popular term with Hunt Critics.

Unsurprisingly, those dedicated to the quest hated the word. They came from all walks of life, countries, races and backgrounds. "Gunter" just lumped them all together as a bunch of losers.

#NotAllHunters

A more popular description took hold. Originating from Clan Oviraptor, they called themselves Jägers. It conjured images of the righteous hero. Of swords and guns and mechs. Of laden belts and holsters and leather. Of the collected adventurer with a coolheaded wit. Of a crusade against injustice and wicked intent. Sure, it might not have been technically accurate. It wasn't specifically an 1980's thing, but it seemed close enough. A name steeped in popular culture in video games, movies, manga and anime.

But mostly it just sounded really badass.

I like this. I’d definitely like to incorporate it when we get there in about two chapters?

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