Friday, August 31, 2018

Word: Copse


  

copse

[kops]
noun
  1. a thicket of small trees or bushes; a small wood.

*******************************
            “Okay, we’re here, so what do you want?” Chris asked.  He was in an understandably bad mood.  He and his friends, Nickie and Jeff, had been called out into the middle of a small wooded area at the edge of town by the fourth member of their little group of friends.  None of them were particularly happy about it.
               Matt, the one who had put out the call, stood in the middle of the trees and looked at each of the other three.  “I, uh, I wanted to show you guys something.”
               “What?  What could be so important that we had to come all the way out here?”
               “Well, it’s jus that, I, uh, I have super powers.”
               The other three stared blankly at Matt.  They let out a collective groan. 
               “This had better not be like the time you thought you were a prophet because of that food dream you had.” Said Nickie.  She rubbed the bridge of her nose, the action causing her thick glasses to be pushed out of their precarious alignment.
               “Or when you thought you could talk to animals because you got your dog to follow basic commands.” Jeff said.
               “It’s not, I swear.” Matt said.  “I can prove it too.  It’s why I asked you guys to come out here.”
               “Okay, fine.” Chris said through a heavy sigh.  “Let’s get this over with.
               Matt reached behind his back and pulled out a plastic recorder style flute, the kind that every elementary school kid learns to play and then immediately forgets.  He placed it to his lips and started playing.  Matt was not musically inclined, and the notes were screechy and badly out of tune.  His friends winced and held their ears against the offending sound.
               Then they saw something.  A look of intense concentration crossed Matt’s face.  A faint green glow emerged from his hands and enveloped the instrument.  Then the really weird stuff happened.  All the grass in a ten foot radius stood straight and rigid.  The nearby trees and bushes stopped moving.  Then everything began shaking and trembling in ways that could not be explained by any kind of wind.  They shook and bent in time with Matt’s horrible music.  It was erratic and jerky, but the plants were clearly moving at Matt’s behest.
               When he stopped playing, he flopped onto the ground.  He looked like he had just run ten miles at top speed.  His clothes were drenched with sweat, his face was red, and he was gasping for every breath of air he could.
               “That…that is not easy.” He gasped.
               “How…what…huh?” Nickie stammered, unable to put together a coherent sentence.
               “I know.  Not very impressive right now, but still.”
               “Were…were you actually controlling the plants with a flute?” Jeff asked, wide eyed with amazement.
               “Uh, kind of?  I mean, I don’t think the flute is what’s letting me do that.”
               “What do you mean?” Chris asked.
               “Well, you know how in games and stories and stuff, magic can be done without a staff or a wand or something, but it’s a lot easier with one?  It’s like that.  I’m the one doing whatever it is I do, but the music just makes it easier.”
               The other three looked at each other, then at their still recovering friend.  “How did this happen?  Could you always do this?” Nickie asked.
               “I don’t know.  I definitely couldn’t do this a few days ago.  It just kind of happened.”
               “People do not just suddenly gain the ability to control plants.” Chris said.
               “I did.”
               “Guys, guys, I think we’re missing the real questions here.” Jeff said.  The others looked at him.  “If we ask how this happened, we’ll run around in circles.  There’s no way any of us will be able to figure something like this out.  What we should be asking is how we can capitalize on it.”
               “What?” Matt asked.
               “You can make so much money with this power.” Jeff said. 
               “We are not turning Matt into some kind of side show.” Nickie said with crossed arms.
               “Side show?  No way.  He’ll be a star.  We’re talking millions here.”
               “He can help so many people though.  He can be a hero.”
               “You want him to run around in spandex beating up bad guys?  And you think my idea is bad.”
               “No!  He can, like, help grow forests and farmland.  He can rescue people that are trapped.  He can do all kinds of stuff with medicinal plants.”
               “Uh, don’t I get a say in this?” Matt asked.
               His only response was a cold glare from both Nickie and Jeff.  He sighed and lay on the grass.  They would get tired of arguing soon enough.  Until then, Matt was going to take a quick nap.
*********************************
 If you could choose what power (along with its necessary auxiliary powers), what would it be?  And what would you do with said power(s) when you had them?  Would be a hero?  A villain?  Would you become rich and famous?  Or would you just spend your time messing with people and playing around?

Friday, August 24, 2018

Word: Glanceable




glanceable

[glan-suh-buh l, glahn‐]
adjective Digital Technology.
  1. noting or relating to information on an electronic screen that can be understood quickly or at a glance: glanceable data; a glanceable scoreboard.
  2. enabling information on a screen to be quickly understood: a glanceable design; glanceable interfaces.

****************************
               “Okay, done with the first version.” Benny said as he pushed his chair away from the desk.  He leaned back, stretching his arms over his head to work out the stiffness in his limbs, back and neck.  He would need to do more later, but this was at least good enough to keep his blood flowing.
               Benny’s partner, Kyle, scooted over and looked over Benny’s work critically. 
               “It’s no good.” Kyle said.  “Too cluttered.  Too hectic.”
               “What?  I know there’s a lot there, but it’s all needed.”
               “No it’s not.  Players should be able to get all the info at a glance.  If you have to actually read something, it’s no good.”
               Benny moved next to his partner and looked at his design.  It was true that there was a lot of information given on the UI, but they were making a complex game.  A complex UI was to be expected.  Still, Kyle was good at what he did.  The heavyset man was usually right about the matter of games and game design.  Besides, this was only the first version.  Changes were to be expected.
               “Okay, so what should I do?  I mean, the players are going to need a lot of this info, and constantly opening a menu to get it is inefficient.”
               “Please tell me you at least have this stuff on a menu.”
               “Of course I do.  Well, I will once I actually make them, but it’ll all be there, and in greater detail.”
               Kyle crossed his arms and nodded.  “Good.”
               “So, about the UI?”
               Kyle hummed thoughtfully for a moment.  “Icons.  Replace the words with images.  They don’t have to be big or detailed, just distinct.  Then use tooltips for specific details.  That way, it’s easy for the player to get a general idea of what’s happening with a quick glance, but they can also get details if they need it.”
               Benny rubbed his chin.  What Kyle said did make sense.  In his experience, most gamers were visual people.  Using simple images would be better than the words Benny was currently using.  The only problem was how much work it would take.  He would need to make hundreds of icons to represent all the information the current UI provided.  Well, it was just one more thing on the very long list of things he still needed to do.
               “Okay, so replace words with icons, got it.” Benny asked. 
               Once again, Kyle cast his eye over the screen.  He squinted and turned his head from side to side, humming and hawing as he thought.
               “It’s too spread out.  You’ll need to make it more compact.”
               That would be a lot easier to do.  “Okay, that’ll happen once the icons are put it.  Right now it’s so big because it uses words, so making it smaller now would be a nightmare.”
               “Good.”
               “Anything else?”
               “Nothing critical.  Those are the two biggest problems.  Everything else is cosmetic and optimization.  Those types of things can be done later, once we have more of the game built.”
               “Sweet.  It that case, I think I’m going to take a break.  Can’t spend all day looking at a computer, right?”
****************************
A video game's user interface (UI) is very important.  It's how players get most of the info they use most often.  It can't have everything, but all the stuff that's needed for most situations is stored there.  So if a game has a bad UI, it won't be nearly as good as it could, even if everything else is amazing.

Tuesday, August 14, 2018

Word: Riant




riant

[rahy-uh nt, ree-; French ryahn]
adjective
  1. laughing; smiling; cheerful.

**********************************
               “Hey, Phil, you remember when we could do that?” Joe asked.  He nodded towards the children laughing and running around the public playground.
               “Do what?  Run?”
               “No.  Well, yeah, I guess.  But it’s more of the way they’re running.  They’re happy.  They don’t know why, but they are.  I mean, when was the last time you were that happy?  Happy for no reason other than the fact that you were happy.”
               Phil leaned on the thick plastic fence and thought about the question.
               “It’s been awhile.” He said.  It took him far too long to arrive at the answer.
               Both men gazed at the children as they ran around aimlessly, laughing at nothing in particular. 
               “What happened to us?” Joe asked.  “We used to be able to do that.  We used to be able to run around like that.  So why’d we stop?”
               “That’s easy.  We grew up.  We got older and life took hold of us.  Those kids can run and play like that because life, real life, is mostly ignoring them.  In forty years or so, they’ll be just like us.”
               “Yeah, I guess so.” Joe said with a sigh.  He felt the weight of his age.  He had mostly been ignoring the aches and pains that built up over the years, but he suddenly felt every single one of them.  “You know, it’s funny.  When we’re kids, we can’t wait to grow up and be an adult.  But now that we are, we just wish we were kids again.”
               “Perspective, my friend, perspective.  When we’re kids, we only see the good parts of being an adult.  Money, a car.  Freedom to do whatever we want.  Now that we know, we realize it’s the opposite, and long for the times when everything was so simple.  When we could run around for no reason and be just fine.”
               The two of them retreated into their minds, processing what had just been said.  Even Phil was a bit surprised by his own words.  He had no idea he could be so philosophical.  It was several long minutes before Joe spoke.
               “Think we can still do that?”
               “What, run around with those kids?”
               “Yeah.  I mean, why couldn’t we?  We’re not that old, right?”
               “We’re not exactly young either. Besides, we’re not in the best shape we’ve ever been.” Phil patted his developing beer belly.
               Joe looked down at his own softening body and ran his hands through his not quite as thick as it used to be hair.  “We can still give it a try, right?”
               “Somehow I don’t think any of the people our age would approve of us running around with their kids.”
               Joe looked around at all the parents standing around the park or sitting on benches.  Most of them would indeed disprove of two men in their 40s running around with children for no apparent reason.  There was even one ornery looking woman who looked like she was just waiting for an excuse to call the cops on someone. 
               Joe sighed.  “Guess it really is impossible to be as happy as a kid again, isn’t it?”
               “Probably.”
               “Growing up sucks.”
**********************************
I think this song is relevant, don't you?  That's all I'll say, because anything else might be a bit...depressing for some people.