I was a bit on the fence about whether or not I should purchase the next game in the special updated version or if I should just wait for the late release mass market version, but they were clear that there were a bunch of things in the special version that would never be available again. It wasn't on the free-net, either. Yes, I checked, and I know I shouldn't. It's just--I was a little leery about purchasing anything that came packaged in an actual, verified and certified, human skull. Seems like bad juju, you know. Sure, sure, you can laugh at me for living in the modern century and having a bit of the old world superstition, but it's how my grandma raised me. And believe you me, after you've seen the bad (or good) come back around on the person who did it, you get a little more careful. It's reassuring in a way. The police, the government, and society in general might not be able to regulate anyone anymore, no matter how many surveillance cameras they put up, but no matter if you think they got away with something, it's all going to circle back on them. So that's why I hesitated before I bought. Some bad juju you get from doing something blatantly bad. Some you get from doing something that you can kind of whitewash to yourself to try and make it look good, but it really isn't. Buying a human skull had the latter feeling. But my granny died a good ten years ago, and I'm a grown woman, and I really, really, really wanted that latest, greatest, never to be repeated game. So I sprung and bought it. Unfortunately.


Inspiration: Googled "Flaming" -> http://www.forbes.com/sites/zackomalleygreenburg/2013/04/16/the-flaming-lips-explain-new-album-the-terror/ (Yes, they're selling a 24-hour-long version packaged in a SKULL.)
Story potential: Low.
Notes: Eh.

Note: I accidentally posted this in cloudscudding, then had to move it over here.

The roar of the ocean and the steady ticking of the fate stones as they rattled down along the cliff was the first sign she had that something was amiss. She wasn't supposed to still be here. The procedure was simple. She went to the ocean to calm down, she threw the fate stones to appease her ancestors, then refused to stay for the results to prove her own independence, to prove how civilized she was, and then she would take the port back to her apartment node. She didn't wait. She didn't stand and listen to the ocean roaring as the sun sank lower on the horizon and the last fate stone rattled into place. She had, once or twice, taken a picnic in the noontime, but that was--a distraction. She was trying to distract herself from thinking about what this meant. Once again, she pushed the coordinates into the port--

Inspiration: "Meridian" by The Tribes of Neurot, and an unwatched game making a clicking sound.
Story Potential: High.
Notes: Either the ancestors jinxed her ride because they were pissed and wanted to make sure she paid attention (maybe too unsubtle for my taste) or something went Terribly Wrong with civilization, like an invasion or a disease or XYZ, and this is how and where she finds out. The latter idea, I like more.

The clay spun around on the wheel, forming a simple pot. It was not the elaborate creation requested by the patron, but it seemed to grow of its own accord. A spin here, a curve there, what would become a fluted edge after the pot was thrown. The potter stayed at her wheel, her hand locked into place, through the night and into the morning, when the patron was going to come and find not the glorious pot he'd requested for his daughter's christening, but this strange and simple pot, of a style not seen before in the town, not as overawed with its own importance as most of the decorations were. There was--

Inspiration: The Clay Center reception I attended.
Story Potential: Medium.
Notes: It's a good beginning, but it doesn't have a whole lot in terms of legs. I like the idea of a christening bowl being the first sign that a child has fate/destiny/some other supernatural influence hovering over it.