“ Hello caller, you are on the air. ” “I have lived here for about a year now, fleeing the outrageous rent in the Bay area down south. Port Astor? Oh yeah, it’s affordable, but the rent is four-hundred dollars for a fuckin’ reason, pal. This city ain’t right. You ever look at the eyes of people from here? Most of them glassy-eyed, and dead. They wander aimlessly. And the ones that ain’t? There’s something really wrong with them. You got the ones that’ll dome you for looking at them too long, or the real friendly ones. Like, even in the South they’d be pushing it. But here? They stick out like red wine on a wedding dress. I avoid those the most. The angry ones want to attack you, but I don’t know what the hell the smiling ones want.” “Then, once in a while, you get someone that could pass as normal. I don’t get it. There’s nothing remarkable about them, which is what makes them remarkable. Their normality is abnormal. What the fuck is it? I’m driving down the street, and past the u...

                    After some time, he’d lost track, Leon was let out of convalescence. He was not the same as he was when he was put in, nor had he been since he woken up in the first place; his hands would still sometimes shake involuntarily—an after effect of the electrical torture he had endured when he was initially taken prisoner. Pain would randomly shock his body for a moment, and then suddenly pass. His eyes were deepened into their sockets, and cheeks bony and gaunt. He felt as he thought he probably looked; a member of the living dead. After a few more days of observation in a separate cell, which he figured was for checking if he had any sort of communicable diseases, he was released into general population. The prison here, less than a formal penitentiary, was a work camp of some sort. It’s primary purpose was the refinement of various ores mined up by prisoners sent to the mines as a form of execution. Thankfully...

                  Encounters are the staples of any form of storytelling, interactive or not. They are quite literally what happens, and a story without events probably doesn’t exist. That said, there are many ways that titles found in games have approached encounters, for better or worse. What counts as an encounter in gaming? They can run the gamut, but most revolve around combat, either set-piece and bespoke, or randomly generated in this current age of proc-gen design, which can allow for more dynamic encounters. Here we are going to look specifically at two examples of games that used the two methods above, and why they weren’t necessarily the best approaches for either design reasons, or by their nature.                 The first game we are looking at here is Dead Space 3, which released in 2013, and was developed by Viscera...

 " Hello caller, you are on the air. " "Am I a bad person? I moved back home to Eugene after graduation. I got my degree in pharmacology, and to be honest, I didn't know what I was going to do with it. My mom told me, frequently, that she didn't know why I didn't go for pre-med instead. I told her it was because I just wasn't interested; the real reason was that I just couldn't bring myself to go into something that would eat so much of my empathy. What if I couldn't save someone? What would I tell a grieving spouse? 'I did all I could'? I could not tell her that I was a coward." "Am I a bad person? I couldn't take it anymore. I moved to Portland to get away. I got a job as a lab assistant at one of the universities in the city; better that than some retail pharmacy. I lived in an SRO building for a time. Truth be told, I kind of miss those days; me and the others there would get cheap sake and instant noodles from the nearby...

One Night in Astor    Who Can it Be Now?      "Oh shit, oh fuck" Miles said frantically as he put pressure on the wound. The blood surged through his fingers from the gunshot; the red stained his friend's pale skin and clothes. Miles, in his heart, knew it was a failing venture-- he didn't even feel a heartbeat when he started compressions.     Miles had heard a window opening in the living room, and had grabbed his .380 from his nightstand. It was dark, and he only saw the shadowy silhouette from the streetlight that shined through the grimy open window. Afraid, Miles shot the dark figure breaking into his apartment. The flash, the bang-pop, he saw the face of his missing friend, Richard.     He pulled his hands reflexively to his face, not even registering how sticky and wet they were. "I'm sorry" he sobbed, "I'm so fucking sorry". In hysterics, he ran to the bathroom, but vomiting before he made it to the goal. Filled with compet...

 " Hello caller, you are on the air. " "Every morning, I cross the Nimitz Bridge from North Astor into the city. Every morning, I see the billboard for Mooredock, Donnelly, and Ross; their fake-in-their-perfection smiles. The sign reads that I need to call them." "Every evening, I cross the Nimitz Bridge from the city into North Astor. Every evening, I see the billboard for Mooredock, Donnelly, and Ross in my rear-view mirror; their eyes wide in a savage glee. They tell me that they know what I’ve done." "I drive up the hill that overlooks the channel up to my spacious home, minimalist in design and furnishing. I open the several locks that secure the door of my home, and just as quickly secure them once inside. The dark of the house in sharp contrast to the light peering in from the large bay windows, rendering the space in monochromatic amber and black." "Every night, I stare from my house at the Nimitz Bridge. Every night, I see the...

 Hello everyone! It's been a hot minute, hasn't it? Last time I got around to posting anything was about 5 months ago, and let me tell you-- it has been a weird ride. I fell off of making new content because I was (and still kind of am) going through a hard part in my life trying to figure out how to manage as a single person in a late-stage capitalist hellscape .  Good news is, that I recently got out of my rut for a bit, and managed to crank out some new work! Also, as you might have noticed, I did some housecleaning on the blog with thanks to my friend and fellow artist/creator, By Char & Co! They did the new logo/banner/profile, and did a killer job! If you find yourself in need of a talented illustrator, consider reaching out to them at https://bycharandco.com/! Anyway, new piece up on Saturday, with more on the way either next weekend, or the one after that! Be good to yourselves out there.  Zachariah

Hey Y'all, I hope everyone is doing alright this fine February. Things are interesting over here, but we're doin'! I have a list on new content that I am working on, and while it is isn't as often as I'd like, but stuff is being worked on. One of the biggest developments is that I finally got the authors copies of a local journal I was published in, making in the first time any of my work has been put in printed media! I was over the moon when I learned I was accepted last Autumn, and I was just as thrilled when I got the result.   As for actual business, I took down the Investigation series for Tales from Port Astor. There was a plot for those last year, but as time went on from the last entry, I sort of lost what I was going for, and I don't think I really did that idea justice. I plan on reworking the idea, and may reintroduce that series.  It's worth pointing out that TfPA is a sort of anthology series, with the main connector being the city it takes pla...

 " Hello caller, you are on the air " "I can't sleep. I see my days play out in my mind; the banality of my life projected like old film upon the canvas of my closed eyes. The fine details lost under patina so heavy as to be entirely lost. And what plays on that movie? Which is so gray and dull as to be worn river rock? The small moments of each passing day, but utterly unable to be separate from one-another. Already lifeless as it is reduced to the mere physicality of brain matter and electrical activity." "But more than that, the failings of my life, none individually extraordinary, consume me in their totality. Lack of family, found or otherwise; the path of my life so lost in the weeds as to make me wonder if it was ever really there." " I can't sleep . As I lay there, watching that film, I fear that it will still be playing when I open my eyes; looming over me as I lay in the dark, illuminated by what little inner-city light that creep-cr...

      Leon roared in agony as the smell of burnt chlorine filled the small dank room, the electrical system for his chair restraint powering down. "I'll ask once more; where are you from, and why have you come to Rygaard?" The uniformed officer droned on for what could have been the hundredth time. "I am Leon Hakim, warrant officer in the Interstell--" he began before being cut off again "And I keep telling you" the officer spoke, before then switching on the chair again, producing the same sickening scent and sounds "I do not believe you are a time traveler." The officer sighed, "You two" he spoke to the guards behind him without turning around, "Soften up our guest here, until he's ready to talk". Wordlessly, they began to beat the restrained man. The world once again begins to fade in and out, with fog and muted colors, and sounds becoming distant in his mind. Leon thinks he hears a woman talking about trauma, but h...

 Hey Y'all, I hope that the new year has been off to a wonderful start, and that we all had a safe and fun holiday, or a quiet and peaceful one. If not, me too. I just wanted to give some insight to what I have been up to this first and auspicious week of 2023-- for those of you who don't know, I am returning to school this year to begin a path into multimedia, which is both exciting and terrifying to me. As part of that, I am exploring that space and trying to learn some basics to where I am not entirely uninformed. To that end, I have been messing around with streaming and editing videos, and have been putting those up on YouTube. This is primarily geared towards gaming, as that has so far proven to have a low-barrier to entry given my familiarity with a lot of things there. To any who'd be interested in that content, the channel can be found here . In the future, I have the idea for additional media projects that'll be rolled out as time goes by and my comfort with p...

 Hey Everyone! Happy New Year! I hope that the end of 2022 is much quieter and peaceful than the rest of it has felt. I started this blog earlier, way back in Spring, and I wasn't sure if I was going to keep up with it. I even managed to post a piece one a week for like 3-4 months, which was nuts. I was proud of that, but hoo boy, I do not want to do that again.  Some light housekeeping up front, I did change the title of that Mass Effect essay to remove the "Part 1" of it, as it has become abundantly clear that I think I said everything I wanted to say with regards to that. I have been working on another Game Talk article, but I have no idea when that will be out, but stay tuned. My immediate plans are to hopefully wrap up the Investigation story for Tales From Port Astor, and then move onto my next project for that setting. But, who knows. I have plans, then life gets in the way. Thank you for everyone who has taken the time to read these through the year, and thank you...

      Leon awoke in a fog, pierced only by the bleating alarms from the escape pod. The last he could recall was the escape pod [PAINTED] alert going off, and then the bursts began. In a daze, he managed to ignite the door charge, blowing the sealed hatch off, in addition to his eardrums. He slowly began to drag and lift himself out of the crashed pod when an intense pain shocked through him-- a piece of metal from the console was lodged in his abdomen, and had hit the frame of the blown hatch while he exited.     He tumbled out of the pod, and into the small crater of his entry; at first belly-down, to which he mustered what little strength he had left to flip himself. The pain was nothing he had felt in years. Not since he crashed his first suit when he began his test pilot career, but how long ago was that even? He thought about these things as he stared at the snow falling down on him from the very heavens he just fell from.     He began to fade in...

      August stumbled into the ruined home, away from the gunfire that was still echoing from the dead forest. He knew that what he was doing was desertion, but that became less and less important as the moments passed. He knew that he was bleeding too heavily, and that it would soon be the end of him.     The air was dry, and he could see the dust begin dancing in the light-- stirred by his arrival. The smell of the old house filled his nose. Along the walls, amber evening light shone on ancient family pictures that still hung on the wall.  August looked upon them, and reflected on his own family. His mother would often tell him and his younger sister of her childhood about a life long since gone, and of the seasons which were extant only in the memories of the last people who knew them.     When the days grew shorter, and shorter, families would gather for holiday celebrations, with some even coming from thousands of miles away. They would share...

 Hey Folks! I hope that we are all having a good wind down in these late Summer days-- the season is nearly over, and we can soon get back to livable weather! I'm currently working on some projects that will be eventually posted up here, but am not sure when. I have amazed myself with begin able to post a new short story or article every week for like four months, but Jesus Christ, is that hard. So, I might take a bit of a break to work on some new stuff, and maybe just dick around for a while. Not forever, but maybe a couple weeks. I just want to say that I have greatly appreciated everyone that has come by and taken a look! The fact that anyone actually takes interest never ceases to boggle my mind in the best way. TL;DR-- New stuff on the way, but maybe in a couple weeks while I recharge. Stay safe, and drink water! Thank You & Very Respectfully, Zachariah