stream player

Go Go Christian Rangers!

So my campaign group did a session tonight.  We got to introduce a brand new character, a werebear sorcerer that is following the ancient blood path.  She sings annoying tunes when she speaks and is pretty much getting on everyone’s nerves.  While I do DM the game, I actually give the players a chance to take charge and decide what they really do over all.  The rest of the party is a Bard, a Half-Elf Cleric, a Dragonborn Necromancer, a Barbaric Gnome, and a Night Shadow Warlock.  We had all learned about how Power Rangers was added into the DnD campaign as part of the home brew earlier in the day so I wanted to add them in as a cameo.  The Necromancer was able to identify the 6 Power Rangers and informed the others of his information when the following happens;

Sorcerer: I roll to tell them about my religion, the Maker.

DM: Okay, roll a D20.

Sorcerer: *Natural 20*

DM: Fucking hell… So, the sorcerer sees the Power Rangers and starts screeching at them about her religion and her Lord The Maker from within the boat.  The 6 members were all enthralled with her spoken words about religion that they all now worship Jesus Christ by promoting violence through love and tolerance.

Entire Group: *Bursts out laughing*

Warlock: Okay… I’m going to roll and see if I can get them to believe in Cuthulu instead.  *Natural 20*

DM: So the Power Rangers then hears the annoying voice known to belong to the Warlock and are so moved by his speech about Cuthulu that they decided to drop Jesus Christ to worship him instead.  The entire group of 6 members turns on each other to honor their new Lord.  Zords are now being summoned to the battle to fight against one another.

Sorcerer: “NO!  CUTHULU IS EVIL!  LISTEN TO ME AND THE MAKER!”

Cleric: “I WILL SOLAR FLARE THEIR ASSES!” *19*

DM: Now all 6 members are blinded from the sudden flash of bright light provided by the cleric.  Your party slowly continues to row down stream.

9

NIER AUTOMATA STREAM MEME COMPILATION PT 1

Feat. Nines and Eve as Eve plays against… himself.

And balls. Extra Extra balls.

This was what happened during one of Kyle McCarley’s live streams with guest player Ray Chase, although the two are better known as the English voice actors for 9S (Kyle), Noctis and Eve (Ray), and many more :D

I’m incredibly excited to see that so many voice actors are starting to stream the games that they took part in making and I hope that they continue to do so (when they have the time of course XD)

I’m thankful for being able to join the stream and I appreciate all the efforts that everyone puts into them - from both the actors and the fans! Hope to make EVE-n more of these in the future - even though I couldn’t get o the ones NIER the end of this stream. With extra EXTRA MEMES!!

Kyle’s twitch found here

♠ “It shall be done.”
Ace in Prince Kael’thas inspired regalia.

Concept art of the ships players will be commandeering in the ship hijack missions that DE Steve was working on in one of his streams. One player will be in charge of maneuvering the ship and using the frontal guns while other players will be in charge of either defending the ship from boarders, or utilizing their archwings to board enemy ships to fulfill secondary objectives, for those who were unable to watch the said stream.

BatB Characters as Youtubers
  • Belle: Personal vlogger. Videos are usually sociopolitically focused, in which she brings up a current event/scandal and not only talks about its contemporary relevance, but unpacks the historical themes behind it. Also does book review installments that start out as one-offs, but end up spanning the length of five or six videos.
  • Gaston: Let's Player. Predominantly streams shoot 'em ups, but will delve into any genre. He especially likes to show off how he can maintain his cool throughout jump-scare horror games, and keeps a running commentary going as he builds a giant homage to himself in Minecraft. He keeps a smaller recording of himself physically playing the game in the bottom right corner. It's minimized, though not nearly enough.
  • Maurice: Theoretical science vlogger. Segments include exploring the myths behind certain social misconceptions, as well as "believe it or not!" specials in which he just raves about cool, lesser known theories. Will get excited and start blending layman's terms with scientific jargon. His less scientific-savvy fans don't mind. They like his energy. Occasionally uses a go-pro and livestreams the progress of one of his current inventions.
  • LeFou: A cappella cover artist. He's cornered the Disney medley niche, but also toes into the realms of pop and dance. He's written lyrics to the instrumental theme Gaston plays before all of his videos, but hasn't worked up the nerve to contact him yet. Does really gracious shout-out videos whenever he reaches a subscriber milestone.
  • Adam: Narrator. It began with biweekly uploads of him reading through classic poetry, until his voice, low and soothing, drew him mass attention. He takes requests to read works of other genres as well as those of new, aspiring authors. Never shows his face.
  • The Enchantress: Makes those fucking "Bee Movie but every time someone says 'bee' it gets faster" memes and not a damn person knows it's her

anonymous asked:

I have a game design question after watching EVO: Why do fighting games have a timmer?

There are two main reasons that timers exist in fighting games. 

The first reason is because it generally improves the game by putting external pressure on the losing player to advance the game state. A stalemate raises the level of tension in the players, but that tension can become uncomfortable without some form of catharsis (tension release). When you have a stalemate that can run for a potentially infinite amount of time, it can move from enjoyable tension into frustration. In many competitive games, there are moments of catharsis between periods of higher tension - building more troops at your base in Starcraft, farming gold and going back to buy items in League, or even the time between rounds in fighting games. These moments let the player take a break and relax. You need to give this to the player at some point, or the tension will be too much and they won’t enjoy or return to the game.

The second major reason for the timer’s existence (and the original reason for the timer) comes from the arcade roots of fighting games. Arcade games earn money by the games played, so developers didn’t actually want players on the machines forever. Most arcade games were played for around 5-10 minutes per play at most, often ramping up the difficulty in significant jumps as the player advanced in levels. This serves to tickle the loss-aversion parts of the human brain to push players to pay more to continue playing so as not to “waste” the progress made so far, thus increases the machine’s earnings. For fighting games, it was similar - developers didn’t want players potentially tying the game up forever when it needed to be earning money, so every arcade game had (and still has) a built-in time limit. In that regard, fighting games actually pioneered the idea of players being able to play for hours on a single coin if they were good enough, but only if they were able to get a steady stream of losing players to pay for them.


Got a burning question you want answered?

stormmodblog  asked:

... How do you fool people by acting like an NPC?

I’ve done it both in games and in real life.  :3c

In The Secret World, my usual way of having fun during downtime was to stand in the Templar faction hall dead-center between two pillars just off the main entrance, using the “Stand at Attention” emote many of the NPCs use.  Because I’d earned the highest faction rank, I’d gotten the highest-ranked Templar faction uniform costume as a reward - the same outfit quest-giving NPCs wear.

So just wear the right outfit, stand real still, and giggle like a loon as a non-stop stream of players run up, try to click, and get confused before figuring it out.  :3c

Much the same thing in the real world as well.  I attended a convention many years ago dressed as Deneb from Kamen Rider Den-O, which is a full-body coverage costume.  It was so dense around the chest that you couldn’t even see me breathing, so if I stood still I became a very convincing statue.  Because there were many standing displays, statues, and dioramas around the halls for guests to take pictures of/with, I just planted myself nearby some and waited for people to mistake me for a display piece.  Then, when they least expected it, I sprang my devious trap.

…said trap being wishing them a good day and giving them candy, but still.  There were lots of surprised faces and quite a few people I unintentionally scared the hell out of when I suddenly started talking and moving.

Reviving Memories

Title: Reviving Memories

Athlete: Michael Latta

Word Count: 2,160

Requested?: No

Author’s Note:  I know I said Torment Anew Part III would be next out but my Latts muse just sort of grabbed ahold and wouldn’t let go until I got this one written.  I hope everyone enjoys this one about ½ of the brobeans.

Your name: submit What is this?

“You need to see the picture I just put on Instagram.  #TBT never looked so good.” Throwing your phone back onto your bed you went in search of another box.  “Y/N.  I’m serious.” Was the next text received from Jasmine while you were out of the room.

Taking a seat on the floor you logged into the app.  The notification you had been tagged in the picture making you a little more interested.   Once it loaded, you found a picture you had not seen in years.  You and Jasmine in your freshman year at the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee was staring back at you.  Your first Milwaukee Admirals game attended, both of you proudly showing your UWM pride in matching hoodies.   #bestroomiesever  #LetsGoAdmirals were hashtagged to add emphasis.

Keep reading

Seeker (Quidditch!Luke)

Summary: It’s the final match of the season and you’re determined to beat the opposition..no matter how dirty you have to play

Word Count: 2k

A/N: This is for @jigglypufftribe​ and @0kbutmichaelclifford​‘s Hogwarts!5sos blurb night! (Plus I had a few requests for hogwarts aus and I’m a total Luke hoe so this baby was born)

Originally posted by fallenfor5sos

Masterlist | Have any feedback?


Hufflepuff were never known for their stellar quidditch skills. Their team was thought to be too unorganised, not focused enough, a mess. But that all changed when you discovered your uncanny skills as seeker and joined the team during your fifth year at Hogwarts.

You’d been messing around with some friends by the lake, enjoying the sun and cramming in some revision. One thing led to another and you ended up being dared to try to ride a broom, instantly discovering a new talent.

You could ride a broomstick, and you were darn good at it.

Come sixth year, you’d tried out for the team an instantly got on, replacing the past seeker and taking your new position as a pivotal part of Hufflepuff’s team. The streak of bad luck passed, your contribution going rewarded as you helped to win many matches for your team over the year.

Fast forward another year and you’re in your seventh year. Having been appointed captain by your teammates you’d set up a vigorous training regime to ensure you won the championship.

Everything was looking up until Ravenclaw, fellow house and quidditch rivals, decided to bring out their secret weapon.

Keep reading

Since I’m getting a new gaming PC in the next couple of days (it will probably get here Monday but I really hoping tomorrow) I was thinking of starting up a twitch stream. I probably won’t take it incredibly serious and stream every day but stream league and player unknown battleground with my friends every once in a while. Thoughts?

HEY OK so in may twenty something finn jones came to pr comic con and since I watch his instagram lives, i saw that he had a pretty small gem collection so I bought him a few gems he didn’t have to make his collection bigger because i thought he might like it? anyways, i meet him at the autograph session and after greeting him, having small talk, and joking around, i give him the gems. he was super happy and excited and i was happy as well. Anyways, yesterday he made another live stream showing his record player as he unpacked his stuff at his new apartment and I look at the corner of the screen and… three of the rocks I gave him are there?? I dont know why, but i didn’t expect him to display them or anything and the fact that he did made me so damn happy you have No idea :’))

anonymous asked:

Can I make a fic request? I have this idea but I can write for shit and I think you're awesome so here goes: zimbits- elevator au: one person is in the elevator and is in a huge hurry and pounds the close button despite seeing the other person coming. Pettiness ensues.

Holy crap, Anon. Idk how to write this but here goes.

Jack Zimmermann did not usually forget his manners, but when he did he was in a hurry. “Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck,” he muttered as he half sprinted, half power walked through the lobby, slid into the last open elevator and hit the close button about thirty times. The big steel doors began to sigh shut.

“Oh! Hold it for me please!”

Jack glanced up in time to see a handsome blond gentlemen sprinting for his elevator, but he was all the way on the wrong side of the lobby and, well, the doors were already closed. Jack spared him an apologetic, slack-jawed look, feigning deafness as the doors squeaked shut.

Athletics Director Eric R. Bittle—Coach Bittle to the Samwell Men’s Hockey Team—frowned at the closed elevator door and took a sip of his pumpkin spice latte. For a millisecond, an overwhelming inferno of hot rage swept over him.

Snubbed! In his own building! On this day! Didn’t people know any manners?

And just as quickly, the anger smoldered and died. Wrath simply wasn’t in Bitty’s nature, like buying premade pie crust or writing with his left hand. He propped his hip on the wall while he waited for the next elevator and opened Twitter.

[Got furious over something dumb lol.#extra]

Jack slowed to a normal walk and tried to control his breathing. Normally the sprint from the elevator to the conference room wouldn’t so much as wind him, but there didn’t seem to be enough air in the room and that meant he needed to Chill Out before he got into a full blown panic attack. He made himself take a few deep, slow breaths, and then he entered the room.

They were chattering. Late night research paid off; he recognized University President B. Knight at what passed as the “head” of the big, round table. On his left sat the head of the math department Dr. Adam Birkholtz, who was speaking animatedly with the head of the pre-med department, M.D. Oluransi. On Knight’s other side was the head of the arts and behavioral sciences department, Dr. Larissa Duan, engaged in what looked like a staring contest with head of humanities Dr. Derek Nurse. And there were a handful of faces he hadn’t seen on the website faculty page.

Jack’s hands sweated but he put on his most ingratiating smile. “Good morning!”

Knight’s mustache twitched and he nodded at the empty chair on the empty side of the table. “Please, have a seat. We’re still waiting on one last faculty member.”

Jack sank into the free chair, overwhelmingly grateful he wasn’t late-late. He lined up the important documents and scrubbed his palms over the seams of his pants. He touched the lucky button behind his pocket square. He needed all the luck he could get for this job interview.

He was calm. He was in control. He was going to do just fine.

“Aha! There he is!”

“Very professional, Bitts,” Knight scoffed, but his eyes twinkled. “Show up fifteen minutes late with a Starbucks.”

“I’m not fifteen minutes late,” the cute blond gentleman that Jack had very obviously, very rudely, shut the elevator doors on, said around his grin. “And I’d’ve been here even sooner if some yahoo had held the elevator for me.

Jack could feel his soul leaving his body. Oluransi and Birkholtz laughed. “Ooh! Who could deny you, Bitty?”

If someone could pointedly not look at someone, Bittle was pointedly not looking at Jack. With gusto.

This is hell, Jack realized. His anxiety finally killed him. His heart gave out in the elevator and this was his punishment for being rude. He always thought that when he died, there would be a sense of perspective, that he could finally relax because the worst had already happened.

This was not the case.

Over the course of the interview, Jack proceeded knowing he wouldn’t get the job. His hands quit shaking. The stakes, impossibly high, were shuttled off the metaphorical table and he handed his CV and a cache of his published research to the president to flip through. He answered questions carefully, methodically.

He took his time, secure in the knowledge that the worst had already happened: he wasn’t going to get the job.

He was wrong. The worst had not happened, but was yet to come. He got the job, not only as an adjunct professor of North American modern history, but as an assistant coach. Working directly under Director Bittle, the cute guy he was rude to.

This was hell.

Because it would be one thing if Coach Bittle—Bitty—called him out on it. Or if he held a grudge. But it seemed he had completely forgotten the elevator mishap, and plied Jack with more pies and tarts and coffee cakes than any one man should consume. And he was sweet, accommodating, kind. If he’d been a dick, Jack at least could have justified being a dick first. Or settled into his new position secure in the knowledge that the Elevator Incident was memorable to at least one other person.

He could feel himself making a big deal out of practically nothing. But he couldn’t make himself stop.

Bitty skated across the ice, whistle in hand, and leaned against the boards. Their players steadily streamed into the rink, two or three at a time, sleep deprived and mute. Bitty grinned. “It’s time. For Soviet Calisthenics.”

Jack had never seen a grown man burst into tears at six in the morning. By the end of the practice he could see why. “A bit grueling this early in the season, eh?”

Bitty merely raised an eyebrow as he took a plastic container from his work bag and pushed it into Jack’s hands. Some kind of egg dish, still warm. “Jack Zimmermann. We’re not here to play games. We’re here to win.” He handed him a plastic spork. “Now eat your quiche.”

Around Halloween Jack finally cracked. He stepped into an empty elevator with Birkholtz and Oluransi, and turned to see Bitty hurrying down the corridor. “Rans! Hold the elevator!”

And then the small space was a cacophony of hooting and yelling. “Get wrecked, Bittle!” Holster bellowed while Ransom hammered on the close doors button.

The metal doors slid shut right as Bitty drew near, laughing and rolling his eyes and calling them assholes.

“What?” Jack spluttered into the sudden silence.

“Listen, bro,” Holster said, resting a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “You have not lived until you have seen Bitty’s face when he thinks he’s finally gotten into an elevator—“

“And you pick him up and put him on the wrong side of the doors—“ Ransom interjected.

“And then close them before he can get back in,” Holster finished.

Jack frowned, floored. “Why?”

“Bro. Because we’re stupid.”

The faculty Halloween party was a great deal more exciting than Jack would have expected from a university. But then, Shitty brought tub juice and Lardo brought champagne and between the two of them and Holster and Ransom starting up a beer pong tourney, the teacher’s lounge in Founder’s Hall was bound to get rowdy.

Jack wasn’t entirely sure where the cat ears he was wearing had come from, or where his tie had gone. He and Shitty staggered into the elevator—campus Papa John’s was calling, brah—when Bitty didn’t step into the elevator with them so much as tumble. His momentum pressed Jack into the wall, and there was a nice armful of coach there, yes, excellent. Jack dropped his chin onto the top of Bitty’s head like it belonged there.

“Bittle,” he murmured.

“Jaaaaaack.”

“Bittle. I am so, so sorry about the first day we met. And I was rude. You know the thing.”

“Mmm. I forgive you. Buy me pizza.”

“Bittle, I’m so sorry. But not sorry enough.” And he lifted Bitty off his feet and plopped him on the wrong side of the doors just as they started to slide closed.

“Get wrecked Bittle!” Shitty howled. Down the hall, the noise in the lounge doubled at the sound of Bitty being denied elevator access.

Jack did end up buying Bitty pizza that night.