My brother sent me this gem. So I had to share it.
My brother sent me this gem. So I had to share it.
The things you labelled as PR problems I have not agreed to be problems.
Jimquisition, the youtuber.
Climbing the mountain wasn't the easiest thing I'd ever done, but it also wasn't the hardest- But I had to do this, I had to test this out.
I got to one of the higher up peaks as I looked over the clouds below me. I was rather high up, and now was not the time to freak out. I looked back towards the wings on my back, this was all still so weird to me, it was only the sixth day of this sudden mutation.
I closed my eyes, feeling the soft wind against my feathered wings. I reopened them to step a couple of steps forward until I was at the edge. My fear was starting to strike me, pinning me to the spot I sat in. I breathed in slowly as I closed my eyes again, moving to step off the mountain. I flapped my wings quickly, starting to freak out at the fact I was in fact falling rather than flying. I flapped my wings more to attempt at trying to pull myself up from my downwards fall.
I moved to scream before something suddenly gripped onto my sides and pulled me up. I looked up to see a large figure, I couldn't see much past the fluffy auburn feathers. The beast glided safely down to a large treetop nest, gently placing me down before perching quietly on the edge.
"Humans don't naturally have wings." The large bird spoke, moving it's head to preen its' feathers. "You're not very skilled with flying, are you?"
I stammered on my words with a weak smile, "Haha, No, not really. I got these a week ago." I said as the bird pulled it's head from their wings. "Do you think you could... teach me?"
The bird gave what sounded like a chirped laugh, it's neck and wing feathers puffing as it did so. "Bless your soul little Human." They said quietly before they fanned their wings out slowly. "It's easy, you just have to focus. And don't just dive off one of the highest peak."
I looked down as the Bird mentioned about jumping, before I nodded. "Right." I said before I stood up, shuffling over to the edge of the nest. I fanned my wings out slowly, "Focus." I mumbled to myself before I leapt from the edge, I felt my body dip down before I started to flap my wings.
I spun slightly as I dipped down, before I started to gain altitude. I span on my way up, pushing past the trees and aimed for the clouds.
I felt like screaming as I broke through the clouds, spinning as I did so. I stopped beating my wings, I floated in the air above the clouds for a second, slowly beating my wings to keep myself above the clouds.
A figure zoomed past me, I watched in amazement as they span around and dove beneath the clouds quickly. They weren't the Bird from earlier. They were faster and smaller, I moved to follow after quietly, diving below the cloudline. As I dipped down I saw them suddenly dart right past me, I moved to follow before I started to drop down. I was so caught up with figuring out who it was I forgot to flap my wings, dropping towards the ground; I fanned out my wings to at least slow down the fall, I looked up to the figure flying down towards me. They grabbed me quickly, flying me down to place me safely on the forest floor before taking back off again into the air.
I watched them fly off slowly, giving a small smile as I moved to stand up properly, "One day I'll catch up to you." I promised to myself, fanning my wings out slowly.
Somewhere high above, there lies a shadow upon the wind. The bird feels it in the brittle hollows of her bones, in the faint chill that sweeps across her tail-feathers, and in the ancient, prickling certainty that something is watching with malign intent. She has not seen it, she cannot be sure of it, but still she knows that it is there.
Her small, dark eyes twitch at erratic intervals, sweeping the surrounding skies. A slight change in the sun’s light, or a faint blur of movement off in the distance; these might be the only warnings she receives before clawed death comes hurtling at her out of the blue. A predator’s eyes are better than hers, sharper. They’ll have seen her long before she ever sees them.
She flies onward, time inching forward moment by straining moment. A cold breeze cuts across her path, and she turns to greet it, riding the cool air and taking its speed for herself. Gravity is ever-present, its greedy pull faintly weighing on her even as she soars, but her wings are firm and wide, her flight muscles full of strength. The earth has long since lost its power over her.
So she does not fear the fall. She knows that true danger lies overhead, in the fleeting black W-shape now glimpsed at the corner of her vision. Her wings begin to beat with all their strength, her heart thundering with fear; she has less than a second to move before it is upon her.
Sometime long ago, she had crawled up onto the edge of her nest, staring down at the mossy expanse stretching far away below.
Gravity waited there, jaws spread wide and waiting. One wrong step, and its tongue would snap out and wrap around her, drag her from her perch and dash her fragile body against the hard, flat earth. The young bird’s wings ruffled nervously, her head shrinking back into its mane of downy feathers. This did not seem like a good place to be. Better to retreat, to squeeze herself back into the center of the nest with her siblings and wait for her parents to return with food.
Yet something, an inexorable force at the back of her mind, kept calling her here. That great open space, the air on every side, whispered in her head with a temptation as irresistible as hunger itself. Pushing against her wariness and self-preservation, she stepped a little closer to the edge, wings slowly unfolding and stretching out wide to either side of her. She flapped them, just a little. It was a good feeling.
Her mother alighted on a nearby branch and tilted her head to one side, cooing encouragement at her daughter’s progress.
And for just a moment, the young bird chose to look back, wondering if her parent had brought a meal to reward her bravery. Just a moment, but it was enough: her balance faltered, her feet lost their grip, and she tipped forwards off the nest and into the empty air.
Panic clenched her like a vise. Her wings fluttered desperately, churning up winds all around her and turning a gentle fall into a wild tumble, spinning her every which way—
To no avail. Gravity’s jaws snapped shut around her, and she crashed to the ground.
Somewhere high above, a shadow strikes in the space of an eyeblink. A monster, a thunderbolt, a black blur moving faster than she can see, open talons punching through the sky just inches away from her wingtip. She is sent flying, tumbling, cast aside by the wake of something much larger and faster than she.
The bird is no longer a novice, however. Her wings move with a deft and easy power now, overwhelming the windy currents around her and quickly reorienting into a stable flight.
She can see the shadow below her, already leveling out of its barely-missed dive and climbing fast in pursuit. A young grey falcon, sleek and swift and strong. It closes in with every passing breath, the long strokes of its wings seeming effortless in comparison with her own desperate flight.
She flies on nonetheless, her long adult feathers giving her a lift and velocity she could only have dreamed of in her youth. Her heart is a mad rhythm of fear, her muscles burning bright with the force of her exertions, and yet it’s still not enough, not even close. The space between them narrows, gleaming talons drawing ever nearer to their prize, and she has no weapon with which to defend herself, no hope left but for one final reckless maneuver.
She pulls her wings in tight against her body, and lets gravity snatch her away.
Sometime long ago, she had struggled upright, shrugging off specks of dirt and leaves to look out all around her. Somehow, in spite of everything, she was alive. A little bruised, a little dazed, but not hurt so badly that she couldn’t move around. Lifting her head, she beheld the world from a new perspective: the bark-laden pillars of creation now stretched upward rather than down, and the floor around her seemed to extend on and on into an unseen distance. She could walk as far as she wanted, she now realized, and never have to worry about falling again.
But walking had never been what enticed her so.
Her old nest hung far overhead, so tiny from here. On an overlooking branch, her mother chirped appreciatively down at her. She took a few steps, gathering courage, and then unfolded her wings once more.
A hop, a flutter, and a short glide that soon came to a sudden and ungainly halt. This time, however, there was barely any distance to fall, and gravity brought her down with a calm and gentle embrace. She tried again, flapping hard and fast without quite lifting off, testing the power and limits of her wings.
And then she leaped up off the ground, and did not come down.
It would only be a few seconds before she landed again, still weak and uncertain in her own ability. For that tiny sliver of time, however, the air belonged to her. She could still feel the earth’s pull, tugging away at her, but now it was no more than a simple constant, to be obeyed only at her own pleasure. She swam into the sky, up and up toward the glimpses of blue peeking through the canopy above, and understood then in her tiny brain that an infinity beyond all imagining lay open and waiting before her.
There is no room for error, no path she can take that will allow her to escape. The open sky closes around her, cold laws of physics binding and sealing her fate.
She dives straight down, plunging fast as the wind itself in a final moment of defiant grace. The sky is hers, the fall is hers, her wings and weight and streamlined feathers bending the air in perfect synchrony to carry her anywhere and everywhere in the world.
The shadow follows, stronger and faster and heavier. Its talons close around her like a cage, and with a quiet snap and crack she is reduced to a small and ugly thing, feathers sticking out at ungainly angles from a mass of broken flesh and bone. Her mind fades slowly into cold and darkness, her last thoughts of infinity ticking down to a simple, empty zero.
The falcon spreads its wings, levels out, and glides away into the open blue.
A gentle breeze blew over the meadow on the hill, a few clouds moving in the blue sky. A man was lying in the dancing grass, looking at the clouds chasing each other.
Smiling softly he closed his eyes and let his mind wander on the rhythm of the wind as he relived the dream he just had. When the wind laid down he opened his eyes again and frowned. He needed the wind and couldn’t stand the windlessness. His element was air after all and his special skill was wind manipulating. But he couldn’t just manipulate wind he needed wind, he needed to feel the wind to feel good, not feeling the wind would make him feel anxious.
When the breeze continued he sighed happily and relaxed again, of course, he could just run or at least move to create a sense of wind but a natural breeze was so much the better. His eyes moved to watch the clouds in the sky with their ever chasing shapes.
Another sigh escaped his lips but this time it wasn’t a happy sigh, it was a more glum one. If only he could fly amongst the clouds, the pleasant feeling the remnants of the dream gave him wore off and he only felt down that it had been just a dream and not real.
“Keith!? Keith, where are you!?”
Keith rolled his eyes and sat up. His quiet time was disturbed by one of his sisters, Hazel by the sound of the voice.
“I’m here sister dearest,” he shouted back.
Keith stood up, brushed the grass off of his trousers and waited till his younger sister made it up the hill. He heard the bristling of her skirt through the grass before he saw her.
“What’s up?” he asked.
Hazel panted heavily as she had kept a quick pace up the hill.
“The carriage arrived. Ben is home again. Stella wants you home. Dinner. Dad is away again.” She managed to say.
Keith shrugged and walked down the hill alongside Hazel.
“What is wrong Keith?” Hazel asked after an exceptionally long silence, usually, Keith talked her ears off and this silence wasn’t like him at all. He seemed to be a bit down to her.
Keith glanced at his sister, there wasn’t much that escaped her perceptiveness. “what could be wrong, the sun is shining, the birds are singing, the wind is blowing.” he replied with his best grin.
Before Hazel could respond he started chitchatting about his day.
Hazel glanced at her brother but let it rest for now and listened in silence to his chattering.
Back at the cottage Keith and Hazel sat at the table after washing up at the well outside.
The fire was blazing in the stone fireplace and the sturdy oaken table was set with four trenchers.
After a pleasant meal, Hazel looked at Keith and repeated her question from earlier. “What is wrong Keith?”
Keith sighed as now the question was asked in front of his other siblings, Ben and Stella, he couldn’t pretend it wasn’t asked. Stella wouldn’t let him get off easy.
“I dreamed I could fly when I napped on the hill,” he said. “I was flying in the sky alongside birds, chasing the clouds.”
Hazel nodded encouragingly, he dreamed that before.
Stella tilted her head. “And?” she asked impatiently.
Keith clenched his jaw for a moment before he burst out. “It’s not fair that I can’t fly! I control the air! It is my element! I should be able to fly!” Keith shoved his chair back and paced up and down the room frustrated
The siblings looked at each other pitying. They knew the feeling.
Keith turned to his brother and sisters again. “It is not fair,” he said again.
Stella nodded. “You are right Keith it is not fair. You control the wind.”
“Yeah!” agreed Keith.
“You aren’t too big, you are a little under average height and definitely slim enough. A lightweight, no, featherweight I’d say” Stella continued.
“Yeah!” Keith said enthusiastically, glad Stella saw his point of view.
“And you are full of hot air and an airhead, no reason you can’t fly!” she finished enthusiastically.
“Ye…. Hey!” Keith glared at Stella who looked back at Keith, smiling innocently.
Ben chuckled before he got up and patted Keith firmly on his shoulder. “We know what you feel, we all been through it. Remember when I was standing a the top of the volcano, ready to throw myself in just to be one with fire? Remember when Stella nearly drowned when she wanted to be engulfed in her element?”
Keith sighed and nodded as he deflated fell back in his chair. “What if I just make a really strong gust to lift me up?” he asked.
Hazel shook her head. “You can’t control it, it would have to be a very heavy storm force to lift up anything your weight. And if you slip up only once you’ll cause havoc if that storm gust rages uncontrolled.”
Keith nodded pensively, he knew he wasn’t strong enough to control such a force for longer then maybe a minute. A few years back he had tried and it was only thanks to his father that it hadn’t gone out of control. But he had fallen hard and some damage to the surroundings was done.
He took a sheet of paper and folded it over and over again, unfolding and folding.
Stella cleared the table while Ben sat next to Keith and turned to him. “It is not easy to be an Elemental as the need to be close to your element, the urge to feel it is ever persistent. Although it is harder for some than for others,” he said. Ben glanced at Hazel who was the only of the siblings who only contemplated by getting buried in her element, earth. The others had been at the brink of actually doing it in their respective elements.
“The Calling of the Element is both fantastic and horrible, soothing and frustrating. Our Element calls us always, urging us to be part of it completely. It is a never-ending battle to withstand the Calling.” he continued, speaking softly with distant eyes.
Stella returned with a damp cloth to wash off the table. “Besides Keith, if humans were meant to fly they would be born with wings, just as they were meant to be underwater for a long time they would be born with fins and gills.”
Keith nodded absentmindedly as he watched his fingers play with the paper. He frowned and more carefully looked at what he folding
Hazel leaned closer to see what Keith was doing. “Just don’t do stupid things like letting a friend steal all the flight feathers of chickens and ducks to make a pair of giant wings and jump off a stable to try and fly.”
It had cost Keith a month on the bed to recover from his broken leg after that stunt.
Keith grinned and held up up a paper aeroplane. “Maybe humans can fly with the right tools” he said triumphantly, as he launched his paper plane that glided through the air a bit before landing in Stella’s hair.
Hazel hid her head in her hands for a moment with a groan. “I said DON’T do stupid things like that.”
Keith jumped up. “Going to bed, see you all in the morning,” he said as he rushed out of the room.
A few weeks later Hazel passed the shed that still was locked. It was the furthest away of the few sheds they had. It wasn’t the first time she wondered why he hadn’t taken one of the closer ones. Keith had been working non-stop on something. Hazel was worried since his previous two attempts hadn’t gone very well. And the fact that Keith’s friend Alan was helping didn’t really reassure her. Somehow he was always there when Keith's stupider endeavours happened.
Keith opened the door and a smile cracked his face as he saw Hazel. He beckoned her to come in. “Doesn’t it look great?” he asked.
Warily she entered and when her eyes were adjusted to the sparsely illuminated shed she frowned. It looked like a canoe on carriage wheels with a triangular, horizontal sail spanned on a construction above the seat. “What is this?” she asked suspiciously.
Keith’s smile widened, “A fly-boat or Sky-Sailer, this will help me fly. It’s a sailing boat for the sky! I’m going to test it right now, there is a strong wind today. Meet you up the hill!” he said as he pushed the canoe out, Keith and Alan were happily talking to each other about how well it would go as the pushed their fly-boat to the hill.
Hazel tried to stop them but the men ignored her warnings, pleadings and physical attempts to stop them so she rushed to the cottage to warn Ben and Stella that Keith was about to do something very dangerous.
“He made a fly-boat from a canoe, he’s gonna try and fly it!” she cried out to her siblings. “He’s going to roll down the hill with it. I can’t stop them!”
Ben immediately jumped up, “We’d better hurry, maybe we can stop him before he gets there.”
The siblings rushed out but Keith and Alan had rolled their sky-sailer to the hill as fast they could and when the siblings got to the bottom of the hill they could see Keith and Alan pushing it up the last meter.
“Keith! don’t do it!” Ben shouted,
Keith looked over his shoulder and gestured to Alan to hurry up. While Ben raced up the hill Keith sat down and Alan started to push. Ben tried to grab the canoe-like construction but he grabbed only air. As he and Alan tumbled to the ground Stella and Hazel looked at the little construction speeding down the hill. Stellas clasped her hands over her mouth.
Keith was laughing as the sky-sailer picked up speed. “We need more wind!” he exclaimed and with a flick of his hand and a wave of his arm the strong breeze blew even harder, Keith made the wind blow in the horizontal sail and yes, the wheels seemed to get off the ground with each bump and it surely felt longer and longer till they hit the ground again. “More!” Keith shouted and he increased the velocity even more. Up the hill, the four struggled to keep standing and could only hear the wind in their ears.
Finally, a stronger gust lifted the boat up and Keith laughed deliriously as it glided through the air.
“Yes! YES!” he shouted.
The next moment the sky-sailer dropped a bit and one of the wheels cracked on a rock. The construction bounced up again and hit the ground again. Keith still was in his high of success and barely noticed the dangerous situation developing.
A loud crack sounded as one wheel broke off completely and the canoe crashed sideways before rolling over a couple of times.
Keith fell out and the sky-sailer crashed against a tree.
“Keith!” Stella shrieked.
They all hurried down the hill, even Alan looked worried.
“Keith are you all right?” Ben asked. “Speak to me man.”
Hazel kneeled down and checked for injuries. Keith moaned as she touched him.
“I don’t think he has anything broken.” Hazel said, “Lot’s of cuts and I see big bruises forming. He is responding to the pain so he’s not too far away.” Her hands rested on his ankle. “I think this one is swelling.”
Keith opened his eyes and moaned again. When he looked in Hazel’s serious face his eyes lit up. “Did you see me? I was flying in the sky!.”
Hazel shook her head. “you are an idiot. Of all things you did, this must have the most stupid and most dangerous stunt you ever did.” She turned to look at Alan. Glaring at him she told him exactly how stupid she thought both of them were and he better make himself scarce right there and then. Alan, not wanting to get lectured any further, greeted Keith and took off after he made sure for himself his friend would be okay.
Ben helped Keith up. “Can you walk? Are you hurt?”
Keith gritted his teeth as Ben helped him up as he was sore all over his body. He grimaced as he put some weight on his foot. “I might need some help getting home.”
He looked at Stella, “See? Even though humans aren’t born with wings we can still fly. I know this construction has some flaws but we can sail the skies in Sky-Sailers. One day we will all be able to fly.”
>Since many individuals never even see background drama, as you admit to be among them.
When did I admit to that? And why do you think you're more privy to information freely accessible on the internet than anyone else? Do you work in the industry?
>PR problems of their own doing
Not aware of this, elaborate?
Oh really? Okay tell me a valuable or 'high profile' person who isn't a youtuber or streamer who has been attacked by naughty dog publicly.
And yeah it would because however high profile you claim to be the obviously haven't had a lot of influence over the game in terms of sales or critical recpetion.
Reviewers weren't allowed to actually mention specifics about Metal Gear Solid 2's story and the marketing actively lied. Deceptive marketing and review guidelines are nothing new and if there weren't any leaks then I guarantee reviewers wouldn't even mention that the game has two playable characters actually.
Also neither MGS 2 or TLOU2 suffered critically (professionally, anyway) or commercially because of this.
The game is made by CD Projekt Red who you were just saying that some people were holding up as one of the last 'good' trip A companies. That sort of falls on it's face when its doing the exact same thing you just accused 'shittier' companies of doing.
From what I know about DMCA's you are well within your right if someone is using your intellectual property and it isn't fair use. So I don't think that would count as false whether you agree with it or not.
None of which hurt the sales of the game very much. If the only people who liked this game were the cricitcs then it wouldn't be the fastest selling PS4 exclusive in existence.
Why do I get the feeling these 'high profile' individuals are reaction youtubers who have no standing in the game industry? Feel free to correct me if they aren't though.
Plus if pricey pre-orders are the mark of a shitty company, then CD Projekt red is going to be in a lot of bad books when Cyberpunk 2077 releases a 100 dollar ultimate edition that has a keanu reeves action figure or a pink glowstick.
Cyberpunk 2077 is on it's 3rd delay. But even if it wasn't there is sort of a pandemic happening.
Is this the review embargo? Doesn't it make sense to keep a game with heavy plot twists under wraps as long as possible?
Not aware of this, elaborate?