Playing The World's Biggest Pac-Man at https://worldsbiggestpacman.com!
It's a 2011 thing by Microsoft, Namco, and a web developer to show off Microsoft's Internet Explorer browser running HTML5--but I was running it in Google Chrome; I tried MS's "Edge" browser on it briefly, but it didn't seem to run it any better than Chrome, ie there was pretty horrendous input delay when playing it in either.
There are over 600K user-created mazes to explore, and they're all interconnected by 1 to four exits around the sides of each maze, I guess. Most of the ones I bumbled into were pretty awful, and without being able to go back to the map overview without losing your score, it's easy to get kind of stuck in a maze of horrible mazes.
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Off-Air (Alas/tor)
Stuck in bed for days, watched this show twice. Wrote a quickie drabble of my super bae (spoiler, I usually pick the ace character to mess with bc relate) so, here's our resident asshole Radio Demon being a little shit with some snz--anywayhereyougoenjoy!
Alastor was taking a stroll. Just a stroll. Leisurely. Perfectly natural. It just happened to route him to VoxTek. Coincidence, of course. Of course.
He grins up at the jutting, gaudy building--nothing like the unobtrusive yet classier radio tower he himself owns--and enters.
The demon workers attempt to stop him. Or, he supposes, they would, were they not so taken with such scandal--all gaping mouths and stretched jaws. Tactless.
He cruises on, not breaking stride, even as his curling smile fuzzes the monitors as he passes.
As expected, Vox cannot restrain himself enough to wait patiently for his arrival. Vox storms onto the second floor, grainy white noise snowing his screen. The attempt to surprise Alastor fails, as the much less cranky of the two reclines on one of the dime-a-dozen roller ball chairs, his lips forming a perfect V in a way only a demon’s lips can.
“What the electric fuck are you doing here?” Vox spits, his decibels rising feverishly.
Alastor sprouts from the chair and languidly flows around the room as if inspecting it. He hums, the amplitude of his voice slightly distorted. “You could do with better maintenance, my good fellow.”
Vox's left antennae twitches in annoyance. He pulses a reverb of angry signals. “Always. With. The Damn. Insults.”
Alastor ignores him. “I had an idea that might interest you,” the radio demon trills.
“If you’re here to make a deal, fucking forget it. Get the fuck out of my office,” Vox jabs an electric blue thumb over his shoulder.
Alastor glides along the edge of a desk, tutting disappointedly, his sleek clawed fingers skating across the cool surface before rubbing them together with a staticky cluck of his tongue.
“Such filth,” he rolls his fingers as if coaxing a spark to life.
“What’s it to you? I didn’t invite you, and it’s my--”
“You know,” Alastor shorts out his sentence mutely, “I was once quite riddled with a fierce dust allergy.” He turns a bemused expression, finally meeting the screen’s gaze. “It was rather…” he taps his daggerlike teeth with a red-tipped pinky, “capricious.”
Vox scoffs, but he visibly stiffens, fists curling, “You wouldn’t. You’re not even…”
Alastor snakes a sharp finger under his nose, head tilting to the side impishly, “One never truly knows when…hhh--!” his pitch jumps, throat buzzing as it leaps into the speakers on the desks, the walls. A whine sings from the hallway, piercing a dozen ears.
“HZZT-!” Another deep hitch stretches the limits of the bandwidth before the decibels crank higher. “H’pT٨ـZz٨ـzZT٨ـﮩ!”
A violent pop and two of the speakers in the room begin emitting smoke. All the screens flare blue, code running in a tizzy. Vox spins his head in a 360, eyes flashing red with rage.
“You mother--!!”
“My deepest apologies,” Alastor clutches his cane to his chest, giving his nose a coy knuckle rub and a staticky sniffle. “Such a shame,” he tsks.
Before Vox can demand it, Alastor picks up his heels, spinning the cane and strolling toward the door. “Perhaps I should return when you have upgraded to more…ah…durable equipment.”
He saunters toward the elevator, lazily waving the back of his hand. “Ta~”
Vox’s eye glitches, his teeth all fangs. “I. Fucking. Hate him.”
There is no venom quite like lies.
And no art like deceit.
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January closed her eyes, imagining the entire castle, imagining no castle. The defenses available to Balmoral were not enough against a Master. They could not fight here; they had to hide. A shroud that could not be seen, could not be touched, and could not be dreamed of descended to obfuscate their position. When enemy forces came looking for someone, they’d find no one.
[...]
Trickery! Thievery! Treachery! May the liberationist villains be damned for a million, million years!
The long-awaited (at least to me) Chapter 10 of Cupbearer has been posted! Follow the intricate struggle between the Calendar Council and Mr Wines, fought for the Professor. Await the arrival of a delayed, merry ally. Get lost in the grandest dreams. In the darkest hour, where can hope for victory be found?
Read it here
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i don't get people who are like "akechi deserves to go crazy insane! he deserves to just lose it!" bc like. he did. that was an integral part of the game, actually, that akechi goes crazy. he even kills the protagonist because of it
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