I just had an awesome idea. Might take little while to develop it into something, but I think I have a pretty good idea for what this blog is going to be. Hint: I’m currently combing the internet for obscure/forgotten video game characters. If anyone can think of any, I’d appreciate the ol’ tip-off.
Monthly Archives: May 2011
As you can see, the ol’ portfolio is getting a revamp. At least, it’s getting as much of a revamp as it can, still tied to a free WordPress domain and theme. Wait… theme? Oh, how horribly confusing! No, this post is not about the template I’m using for the blog.
Previously, Basic Braining had been no more than a portfolio, a place to post all the stuff I write that appears elsewhere, but in one, convenient location. Well, I’m doing away with that, and making this into a proper blog. But what about? Ah, that’s the question. And that’s the kind of theme I’m talking about.
My first instinct is to make this a blog about game worlds, given my interest in worldbuilding. This prospect poses a few difficulties. For one, my PC is a tired, old girl. She’s not running the Crysis 2’s or the Witcher 2’s or the Deus Ex 3’s. I do most of my gaming on console and I lack the proper means to capture the kinds of images that would be relevant to a blog about worldbuilding. Doesn’t rule out this idea, but it’s enough to give me pause. After all, wouldn’t a blog about worldbuilding be so much more interesting if it had images of the game worlds it’s exploring? Then again, this difficulty hasn’t stopped me before.
I thought about exploring game worlds in another way, continuing the game-crossing reports of Higgins Odious-Bonaparte, my thesaurus-dependent, in-game journalist alter-ego. But then I would need to change the name. Can I even do that? Hmm… I should probably know that. Not a good sign.
In college I once did a project to make a ‘zine. I came up with a concept for what would be a ‘zine presented as a series of journals by an archaeologist exploring game worlds. The first one was about the Mushroom Kingdom, featuring detailed notes and sketches of the various flora and fauna (I suppose that doesn’t make him much of an archaeologist, but whatever).
I could go all game diaries all the time. But I’d probably need to come up with a more interesting concept than simply regaling you with my in-game adventures. Even I know that’s only interesting to a certain point, paling in comparison to something as brilliant as Robin Burkenshaw’s Alice and Kev.
I just don’t know. Therefore, I’m going to give all of the above a shot (plus whatever else comes to me) and see what sticks. So bear with me as I try to figure out what, exactly, I want this… thing… to be. And if you have an opinion, please share! I’m not truly capable of thinking for myself. 🙂
Originally posted at Digital Hippos.
I’m off to meet David Bowie (the Goblin King) in order to settle the trolls’ labor dispute by retrieving the sacred troll artifact stolen by the goblins. That means it’s time to enter the belly of the beast: the goblin city.
I am unimpressed. The goblins live in a series of cramped stone rooms and passageways — not very different from their prison. I guess this is just what goblin decor boils down to: dank stone, stale air and dark passageways. Seriously dark — half of their torches aren’t even lit.
Right, then, first order of business: take time out of my busy schedule to use my “IGNITE!” to light the goblin torches and bring light to their dank, drab, soiled hovel. You’re WELCOME, gobbos! Continue reading
Originally posted at Digital Hippos.
If you followed my last entry, then you won’t be surprised to hear how easy my retread through the goblin fortress is. With my gem dealer’s license and officially-signed goblin documents, I’m untouchable to my former captors (of course, that would change quickly if they found out who I was).
But why just move on to my next destination — the human city of Arx — right away? I don’t know about you, but I never move on to the next area of a game until I’ve explored all I can of the area I’m in.
I pass through a pair of giant, steel doors opening into a huge, dark cavern. A really, really, really, dark cavern.