With the passage of time, we get older… not necessarily wiser. Battle scars and trophies are proof that “we were there.” But they somehow fail to validate the experience in a way that is meaningful, let alone profound. So, how do we determine what really matters? I’m not positive, but I’m pretty sure the answer lies closer to that scar on my right shin than on the shelf next to my trophies (which, of course, my dad has collected, shined, and displayed in his bar in the living room.) […]
While scoring goals and winning games are lovely to look at, those “roses” are empty on their own. I’ve realized that the emotional aftermath of big wins is the same as the emotional fallout of big losses…temporary. What actually sustains and enriches is the effort put forth…the investment. After fourteen years of youth soccer, four years of college, and (almost) two years as a professional, I still must try hard to not allow my football dream to be my master. After all, my career is not my identity; but my goals are important to me because I’ve watered them…I’ve tended them. That said, from winning I’ve learned to dream big and rejoice freely and from losing I’ve learned to how to get up, brush myself off, and forgive. Assimilating these lessons is how I can still play the game…the application of these lessons off the pitch…priceless.
So… yesterday Square Enix announced the release of Star Ocean 3: Till the End of Time on the PS4 in USA and Europe.
Now, I have a history with that game. A history full of fun and fuckin triggering moments that made me wanna eat my controller whole. I put roughly 1k hours into this game in order to get 292 of 300 battle trophies.
But the one thing the announcement made me realize was that it’s not gonna happen again. Not because now I’m a grown up and responsible adult (LOL), but because there are just SO many good games out there that I simply don’t have another 1k hours I can put into one that I’ve already played.
You know, back in the “dark ages” (2004) good games were not released on weekly basis. When a new game, especially a J-RPG, was announced, it was like:
“Oh, you want to play that awesome looking jrpg? Well, how about you sacrifice a goat to the dev gods, perform a ritual dance and fuckin pray it comes to your country 6 months after the release, shithead lol"
AbsoLUTELY. We can’t think of a single title that would benefit more from Streetpass functionality.
Heck, once upon a time we speculated on an entire Smash Bros CHANNEL for your 3ds! We still really like that idea, and we have a hunch that Nintendo may do just that. A Smash channel would likely be a fun way to incorporate trading of a sort into the games, allowing players to have a good time picking and choosing trophies and stickers from their friend’s collections with every streetpass they rack up. Sounds like it’d make for a good collection after a convention run! (Seriously, have you ever taken your 3ds to a gaming or anime convention? It’s NUTS.)
But that’s just the obvious. How ELSE could Streetpass be used?
Isn’t it ironic that the generation who would be considered spoiled and lazy, that the generation who got participation trophies and gold stickers for showing up, has grown to believe in kindness, compassion, mutual respect, and tolerance, while the older generation would have their screams silenced forever?
Maybe getting a gold star didn’t teach us that we were special snowflakes just for existing, but rather taught us to watch for the smile that lit up the challenged kid’s face, as he finally got the same sticker the other kids got.
Maybe getting a trophy for playing soccer didn’t teach us that the world owes us something for existing, but rather let us see the kid who had to work twice as hard just to get up in the morning and put her kicks on and face the day, light up because she may not have won the game, but she won her own personal battle and that trophy will remind her of that for the rest of her life.
Maybe seeing other kids get treated the same way taught us that we are all equals, and we all celebrate our own victories, and those victories are worth celebrating.
Maybe seeing everyone win taught us that to win is a personal thing, and not some random finish line a bunch of stuffy people set up a long time ago that’s collecting dust but can’t be changed because the institution forbids it.
Maybe it taught us to question our own self worth, and taught us to find out what our own finish line is, and to ask others what theirs is, before assuming that we all have the same goal.
Maybe if our parents and grandparents had gotten a gold star for showing up to school when their parents beat them at home, and maybe if they had been told they are worth something just for being alive, because all humans are worth something, maybe they wouldn’t be so angry. Maybe they wouldn’t be so hurt.
Maybe, if they had learned to accept themselves, they would finally learn to accept others.
My sole fern likes to collect old letters pictures holo tape etc of people before the war could you do a follower react to sole taking all of these and putting them on display like a museum open to the public and all that jazz
Here’s a big one for you, friendo! will they all be this long? idk send help
Cait likes being able to look into other people’s lives free of judgement. She laughs at the angry holotapes, underdeveloped photos, and broken items, but she looks for pieces of herself inside them nonetheless. She especially likes that these mementos are remembered regardless of their flaws, that these mementos might even mean something more because of them.
There’s something that just tickles Codsworth about seeing such precious items preserved in the middle of the wasteland, and it brings a proverbial tear to his eye. He feels pride in Sole for doing what he believes to be a noble deed, treasuring the memories of those lost – and in such a well-organized manner, too! Seeing order coming from disorder gives him perspective and hope for the future of the Commonwealth.
Curie is so used to processing facts and data that she is confused by the unidentifiable emotions she feels when browsing the displays. Messages sent to lovers and family, photographs of laughing children playing with their pets, seemingly-average trinkets with worlds of untold stories behind them… She finds beauty in these relics being treasured, and yet she feels sad at the same time, like the tightening she feels in her chest when thinking of Doctor Burrow. When she expresses her confusion to Sole, she finally discovers a name for this emotion: bittersweet.
Danse realizes in one of the aisles that that he has no real mementos of his own. Life in the Brotherhood allowed him to keep a few personal possessions, but he never had any to keep – no relics from home or his family or his childhood because he didn’t have any of those things to begin with. He lingers on a toy soldier, then leaves and does not return to the museum.
Deacon loves the museum. He likes pre-war stuff, pre-war books especially, and seeing these personal mementos on display is fascinating to him. He likes losing himself in other peoples’ lives, even if only for a few moments. And to add to the fun, he’ll occasionally stumble upon some unusual old-world relic, like a box of terrible recipes, and ask Sole if people actually used to use the stuff.
Dogmeat is only allowed inside while attended. He loves Sole’s approval, especially when he brings them items from the wasteland, but he doesn’t understand why his owner gets upset when he brings them these items. Instead, he waits outside greeting visitors with friendly barks.
One thing Hancock learned when establishing Goodneighbor as “of the people, for the people” was just who “the people” were, exactly. “The people” were ultimately good folks just trying to eke out a living for themselves, looking for a good time and safety for them and theirs. Really, “the people” were a lot like the ones from these mementos. As he browses the aisles, he finds himself thinking fondly of his own good people back in Goodneighbor.
Like Cait, MacCready walks in expecting to be amused by the objects inside, but instead he finds himself becoming more and more wistful. As he wanders the aisles, he doesn’t realize how he’s trying not to revisit his own past, the past that could’ve been taken straight from one of happy families in the picture frames, and then he finds something on display that looks so much like it: Duncan’s wooden soldier. It’s different – obviously not whittled by hand, and the uniform is another color – but it’s similar enough to remind him… And suddenly he’s aware of the dolls and toy aliens and around him that don’t have owners, a fate that Duncan’s wooden soldier came so close to sharing, and he realizes he has to leave. He doesn’t go back inside.
Vaguely, Nick wonders if there are any personal effects left over from the original Nick’s life that haven’t been blown to bits. He would have liked to say he had a few treasured possessions of his own… but then he remembers the big box of thank-you letters from clients he keeps under his bed, and then he remembers the tiny model Protectron Ellie had given him one Christmas that they jokingly named Nick Jr., and then the tin of jacks little Jim presented to him as a farewell gift when there was no other town in the Commonwealth who would give him the time of day. And he realizes that he does have treasured possessions, and that they don’t have to have been from before the war to matter.
Piper likes to read the letters best. Her penchant for the written word is no secret, and although she jokes that reading her own work over and over is enough to make her lose it, what she’s really captivated by is how others used to write. There was no worry of the “synthetic truth,” no struggles for food and water, no concerns about death at every corner, but just people communicating honestly to each other. It contrasts so much with her battle to inform the unwilling audiences of Diamond City, and frankly, it’s pretty refreshing. Also, she secretly likes reading the love letters.
The contents of the museum renew Preston with purpose. This is what his mission means to him: protecting people, people like these who laugh and cry and love and live. He savors every such piece of life on display. Will there ever be another world like theirs – safe, happy, full of life? Will he help to create it? More than anything in the world, he hopes the answers to both questions will be yes.
Strong doesn’t understand sentiment, no matter how hard Sole tries to explain to him. “Sen-Tim-Meant? Strong think stuff look like trash.” Eventually, however, Sole tries to explain that through sentiment, humans can gain strength. At mention of the word “strength,” Strong perks up. He still isn’t sure how this “sen-tim-meant” works, but he starts to take keepsakes or battle trophies of his own in hopes of making himself stronger.
Unlike Strong, X6-88 does understand sentiment, but what he doesn’t understand is why these items are being preserved. They don’t hold personal sentimental value to anyone who’s still alive, and there’s nothing useful to be learned from them otherwise, so why keep items that are either useless or can be otherwise repurposed into something more useful? He makes his reservations known, but otherwise doesn’t interfere with the museum.
Summary: Set after 3x20 “Kansas”. After saving the town one more time, Emma decided to return to New York, leaving her past behind. Three years later, she realizes that might be not have been the best decision.
A/N: I don’t think we had enough emotions for one day….
Chapter 35 – The Vow
If you’re lost you can
look - and you will find me
Time after time
If you fall I will catch you - I’ll be waiting
Time after time Time after time, Cindy Lauper
She couldn’t help the goofy grin on her face when she
spotted him standing by that bench, a smirk on his face and handcuffs hanging
from his hand.
“Care to relive some memories, love?” He asked as she
reached him, his lips capturing hers softly in kiss.
“Do you want me to handcuff you to that bench? Like I did almost
four years ago?” She asked confused and he shook his head at her.
“Not really, Swan.” He said as he sat on the bench and
pulled her to sit next to him, his left arm snaking around her waist so she
would lean into his side. “I thought it would be a good place for us to have