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irepookie · 5 years

Text

Infinity Chapter 4-

Meet The Family (PT.1)

Summary: QUEEN AU where Rog (aka Rowan Queen) is a young single dad struggling to make it into music industry.

Warnings: not really. Just fluff, sappiness and swearwords here and there

Disclaimer: I don't own the pictures. The boys are based on Queen, but Piper, Gina and Callie are mine

John: Rick Lincoln (Cause he is John Richard Deacon born on August 19th 1951™™™™™)

Brian: Terry Garrett (Cause my uncle used to have a black puddle named Terry and I had no choice)

Freddie: Len Mars (Yea I couldn't help myself)

Chapter 4- Row opens up with the boys about the raisin.

“I'm a dad”........

"Okay, let's... let's get over this again: A daughter?" Terry, the band's guitarist couldn't believe his ears.

"Yes, Terry. A daughter" Row repeated for the 19th time from the other side of the phone.

"A baby." Len said, taking another sip of his tequila.

"No, a 30 year old alpaca." Row said sarcastically. "Yes, a goddamn baby. Fucking gorgeous, just so you know"

"And you're gonna keep her." Rick, who had been quietly plunking his bass' strings, added. "Are you sure?"

"It's done. I've already kept her. And it's not like I'm rescuing a shelter dog. She's mine. Period."

"Sorry, was just trying to... Wrap my head around it"

To be honest, Row still couldn't quite believe it (that he was a father). Not even now, as he tried to convince his best friends while holding his girl with the other arm.

"And is your mom okay with it?" Terry asked

He scoffed, clutching his Lil raisin close at the thought "My mom has no say in this".

"But she knows" Rick said.

He sighed "Yes, she knows. And she was a bitch about it, okay? She can disown me for all I care". It's not like there was much to inherit, anyway.

There was a general sigh from his three best friends.

"And what are you gonna do?"

" 'bout what?"

"Um, I don't know, man. About School? Maybe about your life in general?"

"School ain't something I'm worrying about".

"What a surprise" Rick rolled his eyes.

"But you're still in the band right?" Len said

"Oh, of course. Of course. You guys are gonna be the only ones keeping me sane"

They chuckled

"But we ain't gonna babysit for you, huh?"

"As if you knew anything about babies"

"Well, the same as you." Terry said

"Just what I was saying: nothing at all" Row grinned

"Her future looks bright, then" Len half teased.

"Incandescent, in fact" Row could pretty much hear Terry's arched eyebrow.

The youngest member could only roll his eyes and try not to take it as an insult. He knew this was a lot to process all of a sudden and that in the inside, beyond the sarcasm and teasing, they were happy for him.

"Whatever, guys" he replied, as Pips began to frown. He sighed, knowing that meant smelly treat was on its way "Gotta go. By the way, she just told me she thinks you guys stink" he grinned, before hanging up.

The other three men exchanged a confused glance, and stayed in silence for a minute, until Len broke it:

"I say he'll go completely nuts in seven days".

"That long? Nah, I think less than 24 hours after they leave the hospital." Terry said

Len smirked "Bet?"

"I'm a bit tight at the moment, pal"

"Then not money. If I win, you'll be my model for the midterm design project. It's 30's fashion. For ladies, of course".

"Ok. But if I win you'll do my chores for a whole weeks."

"A whole week?!"

"Seven days, if you prefer it."

They shook hands "Deal. Rick? Join us?"

"I actually rather believe that they'll be alright" Rick got up and stretched.

"Well of course they will. Eventually. Row always figures things out." T said

"The fun part is to watch him go crazy in the meantime" Len chuckled "Like when he first moved in and left a fork in the plate when first using the microwave"

They laughed, remembering how their friend had called them at 9 PM in panic, screaming the microwave had exploded.

"Let's just hope for the best. I mean he seemed quite sure of himself this time. And who knows, maybe being a dad is the best way to grow up." Rick defended

"Yea, well a bit radical, don't you think?" Len said

"Like sock therapy. If smokers quit when diagnosed with lung cancer, maybe Row settles down now he has a baby"

"I just still don't get why he didn't just put her in adoption" T said

Rick shrugged "Would you if you were in his shoes?"

"Absolutely"

"That's exactly how Row would've answered, say, a week ago. That's what we all answer. Until it really happens. I think it's one of those situations where you can't really picture until you live it."

"But this is Rowan Queen we're talking about. Rowan <<Made out with both Jones Twins at the same party Cause I didn't remember which was which>> Queen. I mean, he does know that a kid is gonna freeze his sex life for indefinite time, right? What the hell was going through his head?" Terry said

"I can't believe you think that." Len interjected "I mean, I'm the one who's never gonna be a dad here, and the one who failed biology, but even I get it. He met her right? Before any decision was made, he met her. Once you meet your kid, you're tangled up forever. And you might think you're not but if you give them away you'll never get rid of a feeling of remorse."

"Wow, Lenny, that was deep"

"Yea, where'd you get that from?"

"Just common sense."

"Funny, considering you're the one who's started the bet" Rick grinned

"One thing doesn't prevent the other. And out of the two of us, I'm the optimistic! He gave him one day, I gave him seven! I trust him"

"Well I'm not sure if I do. I mean, I love him, he's a great guy, a great musician, and everything else, but he's not reliable. Remember his first job as a waiter? I'm still waiting for the fish and chips I ordered last April"

The other two chuckled "I once lent him a t-shirt, and I swear I saw Liz Michael's wearing it" Len said

"See what I mean?"

"Yes, well, we can't do anything about it, T. It's his life"

"But this affects us too, one way or another. This affects the band. And he didn't even consult us"

"Well what did you expect him to do? Call and go <<Hey guys, are you fine with me having a daughter? No? Okay, just checking. Bye>>?" Rick imitated a phone with his hand, doing a decent impression of their friend's high voice.

"A head's up would have been nice"

"Terry, just chill for fucks shake. I mean, this is unexpected, but Row's our best friend, our brother, and we have to support him. Because, if he's a dad, that's makes us her uncle's. And it'll be fun having a little niece we can spoil" Len smiled at the idea.

"Spoil? With what money?" Terry, always realistic, put his hands on his hips

"With the upcoming tour's, of course darlings" he twirled majestically around the room

"First, that's in four months" Rick reminded

"If it does happen at all"

They still had one last song to arrange And record. Plus, they didn't know how Row was gonna make it work now he had a baby. But nobody addressed that concern out loud.

"Oh don't be so goddamn negative, fellas! C'mon! We're uncle's! Row's made a very important, life-changing, mature decision, and we should be proud of him. So" he went to the fridge and returned with three beers "I say we toast for him and the lil Queenie"

The other two grinned and accepted the cans, opening them.

"Oh, I say we Split a fourth beer in his behalf, cause parents shouldn't drink while breastfeeding" Terry mocked, earning a laugh

"To the Queens" Rick raised his can "For our little bro to take this seriously and not fuck this kid up"

"To the Queens" Terry and Len crashed theirs as well.

🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁

Meanwhile, in the hospital...

"Goddamn it, raisin! How can someone so small produce so many colors of something so stinky?" Row exclaimed, holding his breath as he clipped the fresh nappy on his daughter "We only feed you milk! Like... Like white milk! How can you turn a white liquid into rainbow pudding? Holy shit" he held the dirty one at arms length and threw it in the bin "It's a damn good thing I love you, cause I won't do this for anyone else" he told her, lifting her up to his chest again before walking around the room

"You gonna be a good girl for me for the next eighteen years? Huh?" He kissed her chubby cheek "What am I saying? You're my daughter, of course you're gonna be a trouble maker. But we'll get along, you'll see. I ain't gonna be like my parents. Don't worry. I won't be a bloody pain in the ass like mom, and I will never ever do anything my old man did. That I can promise. But I gotta admit I do want you to be like Gina. Yea, she's a control freak sometimes, but let's face it: she's gotta be the strongest person I've ever met. You should've seen her kicking the bastard out the house. She took no shit."

He smiled somewhat proudly at the memory, and for a second forgot how mad he was at her for turning her back on them.

"You wanna be a badass gurl like her? Huh? Yes you do. Yes you do" he cooed, craning his neck so he could brush his nose with her little button one. Her fist chose to close around the nearest strands of blond hair on reach, which he found secretly adorable.

But a part of him did wish he had mom's support. After all, despite the rough patches through his teens, they had always had each other's back; through thick and thin. She had have to raise him all alone, and although he hadn't even begun with Pips, he already knew it hadn't been easy. She may be stern, and a bit inflexible when it came to negotiating allowance. She could come across as rude if you caught her in the wrong mood (which many neighbors had) but above all she was a good person and a good mother.

And looking back, he hadn't been such a great son. He could have been more responsible, less handful and more obedient. Less rebellious, too. He could have thanked her more often for the thousand things she did everyday. For the meals. For all the jobs she had taken to provide for the two of them. For the surprise birthday gift she had got him with the money she had been saving: a real drum kit. For helping him move out her house into that one room crappy appartement which would be Pip's home.

But still she had rejected Piper without a second thought, regardless of her anger towards him; Pips was her granddaughter, she had done nothing wrong and as her father, Row doubted he would ever forgive Gina.

He sighed, untangling the hand of his hair and bringing it to his lips "But you don't have to worry about all that. Just concentrate on staying strong and growing up. And I promise I'll focus all of me on being the best dad. That you'll never miss a mom cause you don't need one. You've got me and I swear I'll be enough. Even if I'm still young: I'll have it all more fresh won't I?" He grinned "You're the one person who's never judged me yet, and I don't wanna let you down"

That a was vow. And he was determined to keep it.

🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁

This one goes to my mega-paragraphist @definitely-darcy who's got my engine going through the usual inspiration blocks, and who's reviews help me improve. She's made me believe in this fic, and encouraged me to keep going despite the one digit notes.

Xx- Pookie

#queen band #roger taylor #single dad! roger taylor #dad roger #brian may #Freddie Mercury #john deacon #queen fic #no smut just fluff #non romantic #Infinity fic #baby prune

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brandjamaica · 5 years

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Your Story Shapes Your Life—and You Can Change It At Any Time

Your Story Shapes Your Life—and You Can Change It At Any Time By

Teresa Shimogawa

“Every moment of your life is a second chance.” ~Rick Price

We are constantly telling ourselves stories about who we are and what we are capable of achieving.

These stories are sometimes the nostalgia of once-upon-a-time that whispers longingly to us. The stories can be the remnants of hardened pain that want us to trace over the lines of old scars. They can also be the tales we invent about imagined futures—what we think will happen.

All of the narratives that we repeat to ourselves—both of the fiction and nonfiction varieties—are what we internalize and use to create self-identity.

Wait a minute. We use fiction to shape our self-identity?! That sounds crazy.

Yep. We do, and probably more than any one of us would like to admit.

The stories we tell ourselves about our shortcomings and failures fuel the negative self-talk that leads us to accept the myth of a single narrative—a belief in only one version of what our life can look like. We cast ourselves as a character locked in an inescapable maze, saddled with baggage we can not remove, riddled with flaws and insurmountable challenges.

It’s our interpretation of the past and how we project the future that determines the roads we take to all of our tomorrows.

These stories can either lift us up or lock us down. They inspire us to reach for more or they make us stuck. The narratives inevitably shape who we become.

Our storytelling begins at a young age.

There’s the narrative of your childhood dreams, the one where a kid like me thought she’d become a singer or an Olympic ice skater, own a house in Malibu, and have a Barbie doll body and an endless supply of money and youth.

Of course I neglected to consider the fact that I couldn’t sing or ice skate, had no desire to learn, and that Barbie’s body is make-believe. None of that would have deterred six-year-old me though. I felt truly unstoppable during my childhood.

But it passed in the blink of an eye.

Childhood narratives faded and gave way to the hormonally-charged teenage years. The boundless optimism of my imagination receded as my body changed and life shifted from the slow-moving days of childhood to the volatile ups and downs of being a teen.

This is when my narratives became toxic. My social life determined the tempo of my weeks, and my identity started to become intertwined with how I felt about my desirability to boys.

I was a walking powder keg of emotions who somehow managed to earn good grades and visibly hold it together. But on the inside, I was beating myself up to the tune of the dangerous stories I told myself: not good enough, not good enough, not good enough.

I decided early on that I would never be as cool as the popular girls. I would never be skinny enough or pretty enough, and I wouldn’t even be smart enough to compete with the nerds. I would perpetually feel like I was falling short in all categories of my life.

Those negative affirmations increased as an adult. My future projections about what my life would look like were often rooted in fear, anxiety, and stress about the present.

A soundtrack of negative self-talk played non-stop in my head, reminding me about everything I was not, and everything I couldn’t do.

I’m a failure.

I’m too ugly.

I don’t deserve it.

Not smart enough.

I’m unlucky.

I make bad choices.

I am a bad wife and a bad mother.

It’s not my turn yet.

I can never do that.

I will never have that.

Yadda, yadda, yadda.

Whenever something went wrong, I blamed myself. We have this urge to blame someone for our problems, and like many people, I turned myself into my personal scapegoat. I would throw myself under the bus.

We perpetuate a narrative of hopelessness that makes us believe we are victims with problems that are unique to us. Scarcity mentality tricks us into believing that we can never have what we want. We think we are abnormal and defective and forget that we are merely human.

The terrible stories win. Those are the ones we become attached to and believe.

They are us.

We are them.

It is difficult to separate who we are apart from those narratives because we spend so much time repeating those stories over and over again.

I was thirty-four-years-old when I woke up one morning in April 2016 and had my story unexpectedly and irreparably changed.

I found my husband unconscious on the living room floor. My six-year-old, three-year-old, and one-year-old were asleep in the nearby bedrooms while the firemen tried to resuscitate my husband before they whisked him away to the nearest hospital.

By the time I followed the ambulance, a doctor met me at the entrance of the ER and greeted me with, “Nothing we could do.”

My husband was dead.

I would later find out that he had an aortic aneurysm and went quickly. There was nothing we could have done.

And just like that, the life that I had on autopilot was over.

I always experienced negative self-talk, but now I was living the real life horror story of being a young widow and single mother.

There was nothing more shredding to my identity than getting forced into a story that for once wasn’t the terrible fiction I usually concocted about myself. This was my terrible reality.

I couldn’t see any hope for the future. It felt too daunting and terrifying to even contemplate. Happiness felt like a cruel joke.

I defaulted to blaming myself. I spun narratives to explain why I was in that situation, and why I deserved to be miserable and unhappy.

I needed something to help me understand why I did everything I was supposed to do in my life and still got this crappy hand from the universe. There had to be a reason why I was alone while everyone else got to go home to their significant others.

My answer to those burning questions was to throw myself under the bus again.

I must have deserved this.

I was probably destined to live a miserable life.

I would feel shame and get judged by society, and I deserved all of it. Single motherhood would be hard and it would make me a societal outcast amongst my social circles. I would become just another sad, overburdened single parent.

My children would suffer and be damaged by not having a father. I would single-handedly ruin their happy childhoods by not being able to live up to the staggering amount of responsibility required to raise a large family on my own.

I would never accomplish the things I wanted to do in my life. I’d have to trade in those dreams for survival and my soul would wither. I would deserve it.

I would never find another person to love me. I was now damaged goods with too much baggage. I would die lonely.

I would always be mired in struggle. And I would drown in my fears. The pain would throb forever. It could kill me. I would never feel better. I didn’t even want to live. I would never be happy again.

The nasty voice whispered to my subconscious, wanting me to believe this version of my life. It begged me to accept an exile to the wasteland of a life I did not choose. In the midst of my despair, it seemed easier to give in to that story.

Later I would realize that I had to get it out of my system. Acknowledge the pain. Recognize the thoughts and emotions.

Feel all of it.

And then, let them all go.

What if we just flat out said no to a narrative that we didn’t want to believe? What if we rejected terrible narratives about ourselves?

I didn’t want to die a sad widow forced to accept an eternity of unhappiness. I didn’t want to give up my dreams and goals. I didn’t want to be alone forever.

There was only one thing to do: rewrite the future and reclaim my life.

Instead of capitulating to our darker thoughts, we can become a gatekeeper who chooses what to let in and what has to pass through.

Negative thoughts are normal, but instead of holding on to them and becoming attached to those narratives, a healthier alternative is to let those thoughts float in and out. Hold on to the ones that make you optimistic about life—let those be the ones that grow and take root in your subconscious.

Tell those stories every day.

Instead of believing the narratives that tell us what we can’t do, we can choose to focus on what is in our control. When we don’t like a narrative, we can write new ones.

Narrative two. Or a narrative three or four or five or whatever it takes to get to the version of your life story where you are going to be okay, you are important and worthy, and you can live a happy life no matter what happens. Living a life of your own design. One that is true to your authentic self.

The life you wanted. Not a life that you got stuck in.

At any given moment, we can make the next choice to move us closer to our personal goals. It doesn’t have to be a monumental choice—just a tiny baby step in the direction of where your goal sits brightly on the horizon.

That is all you need. Moving toward a new narrative, even at the slowest of speeds, is all you have to worry about.

It doesn’t mean that life will necessarily go as planned. It doesn’t mean that we won’t ever experience bad things.

We will.

Over and over and over again.

Choosing an alternate narrative is a way to make the best out of what we have to work with in our lives.

It took a good year after my husband died for me to feel open to creating a new narrative. I had to choose to leave behind the story about myself where I was given a death sentence of misery and obstacles.

To be able to leave that narrative behind, I had to trust that there were many more narratives in my future, even when I couldn’t always see the details or know what direction they would take me in. I had to embrace the idea that there were still many more chapters in the story of my life.

When I was ready to turn off the depressing noise in my head about who I thought I was as a pathetic single mother and widow, I began to brainstorm the positive things I had going on in my life. This was the prelude to my Narrative two.

-I was thankful that I got to share almost ten years of my life with my husband. I learned so much from him, and I feel like a better person for having known him and experiencing the loss of him. This was part of my story, not the end of it.

-I was thankful for the three children we had together. I wanted to become a mother ever since I was a little girl. I thank my late husband for these gifts, and I will be intentional about how I enjoy my time raising the children and enjoying their childhoods. I will savor motherhood, even when times are tough and stressful. I will focus more on my joy with them rather than the tediousness of single parenthood.

-I never thought I would get married to begin with, but I did. I will trust that when I meet someone worth losing my single status to, it will happen. Just like it happened the first time. Until then, I will enjoy living my life on my terms, as a whole person regardless of my relationship status.

-There are pros and cons to everything in life. I might as well take advantage of the benefits of being single and seek a life that I wouldn’t have had while I was married to my husband. I can explore new interests and take the time to reflect about who I am and what I want. I can pursue goals. This isn’t the life I chose, but I can still enjoy the unexpected benefits of being alone. In the end, this time will make me a better person.

This past summer I was on vacation in Australia. My children and I spent an evening watching the penguin parade on Phillip Island, near Melbourne. Every night when the sun set, thousands of the world’s smallest penguins swim back to the shore and waddle across the sand to find a place to sleep for the night.

We got to sit literally a foot away from where the penguins passed by. We listened to their noises as they called out to each other in the darkness. The Antarctic winds whipped across our faces.

It suddenly struck me. This is Narrative two.

I’m living it. Right now. Here.

It isn’t what I originally planned for my life. I wouldn’t have chosen it on my own—I would have rather had my husband here with us instead. But this is good too. This was me doing what I wanted to do, seeing the world, raising my children, experiencing beautiful things. Narrative two was not an exile.

It was an opportunity to rewrite my story. A story worth living, even after the tragedy that threatened to destroy me.

If you can believe in multiple paths, you can change your narrative.

If you can believe that whatever you don’t know, you can learn, it will happen.

If you have a willingness to try new things, you can change your narrative.

If you can take the time to figure out your preferences, it can happen. What do you like to do? What feels like enchantment in your life?

If you can believe in yourself, you can write any narrative you want.

And when something changes and the story isn’t what you want anymore, you can keep writing new ones. You don’t have to be a hostage to any narrative. Give yourself permission.

Tell yourself the stories about those times when you were courageous. Tell stories about your strength, perseverance, and resilience. Tell stories about how strong you are.

Tell the stories of your survival. The ones where you got through the hardest of times and experienced joy again. The stories where you knew in your bones that life was worth living.

You have those stories. Those are the ones to repeat.

Tell them over and over again so you never forget who you really are.

0 notes

sarahburness · 5 years

Text

Your Story Shapes Your Life—and You Can Change It At Any Time

“Every moment of your life is a second chance.” ~Rick Price

We are constantly telling ourselves stories about who we are and what we are capable of achieving.

All of the narratives that we repeat to ourselves—both of the fiction and nonfiction varieties—are what we internalize and use to create self-identity.

Wait a minute. We use fiction to shape our self-identity?! That sounds crazy.

Yep. We do, and probably more than any one of us would like to admit.

It’s our interpretation of the past and how we project the future that determines the roads we take to all of our tomorrows.

These stories can either lift us up or lock us down. They inspire us to reach for more or they make us stuck. The narratives inevitably shape who we become.

Our storytelling begins at a young age.

But it passed in the blink of an eye.

This is when my narratives became toxic. My social life determined the tempo of my weeks, and my identity started to become intertwined with how I felt about my desirability to boys.

I was a walking powder keg of emotions who somehow managed to earn good grades and visibly held it together. But on the inside, I was beating myself up to the tune of the dangerous stories I told myself: not good enough, not good enough, not good enough.

Those negative affirmations increased as an adult. My future projections about what my life would look like were often rooted in fear, anxiety, and stress about the present.

A soundtrack of negative self-talk played non-stop in my head, reminding me about everything I was not, and everything I couldn’t do.

I’m a failure.

I’m too ugly.

I don’t deserve it.

Not smart enough.

I’m unlucky.

I make bad choices.

I am a bad wife and a bad mother.

It’s not my turn yet.

I can never do that.

I will never have that.

Yadda, yadda, yadda.

The terrible stories win. Those are the ones we become attached to and believe.

They are us.

We are them.

It is difficult to separate who we are apart from those narratives because we spend so much time repeating those stories over and over again.

I was thirty-four-years-old when I woke up one morning in April 2016 and had my story unexpectedly and irreparably changed.

By the time I followed the ambulance, a doctor met me at the entrance of the ER and greeted me with, “Nothing we could do.”

My husband was dead.

I would later find out that he had an aortic aneurysm and went quickly. There was nothing we could have done.

And just like that, the life that I had on autopilot was over.

I always experienced negative self-talk, but now I was living the real life horror story of being a young widow and single mother.

There was nothing more shredding to my identity than getting forced into a story that for once wasn’t the terrible fiction I usually concocted about myself. This was my terrible reality.

I couldn’t see any hope for the future. It felt too daunting and terrifying to even contemplate. Happiness felt like a cruel joke.

I defaulted to blaming myself. I spun narratives to explain why I was in that situation, and why I deserved to be miserable and unhappy.

My answer to those burning questions was to throw myself under the bus again.

I must have deserved this.

I was probably destined to live a miserable life.

I would never accomplish the things I wanted to do in my life. I’d have to trade in those dreams for survival and my soul would wither. I would deserve it.

I would never find another person to love me. I was now damaged goods with too much baggage. I would die lonely.

Later I would realize that I had to get it out of my system. Acknowledge the pain. Recognize the thoughts and emotions.

Feel all of it.

And then, let them all go.

What if we just flat out said no to a narrative that we didn’t want to believe? What if we rejected terrible narratives about ourselves?

I didn’t want to die a sad widow forced to accept an eternity of unhappiness. I didn’t want to give up my dreams and goals. I didn’t want to be alone forever.

There was only one thing to do: rewrite the future and reclaim my life.

Instead of capitulating to our darker thoughts, we can become a gatekeeper who chooses what to let in and what has to pass through.

Negative thoughts are normal, but instead of holding on to them and becoming attached to those narratives, a healthier alternative is to let those thoughts float in and float out. Hold on to the ones that make you optimistic about life—let those be the ones that grow and take root in your subconscious.

Tell those stories every day.

Instead of believing the narratives that tell us what we can’t do, we can choose to focus on what is in our control. When we don’t like a narrative, we can write new ones.

The life you wanted. Not a life that you got stuck in.

That is all you need. Moving toward a new narrative, even at the slowest of speeds, is all you have to worry about.

It doesn’t mean that life will necessarily go as planned. It doesn’t mean that we won’t ever experience bad things.

We will.

Over and over and over again.

Choosing an alternate narrative is a way to make the best out of what we have to work with in our lives.

We got to sit literally a foot away from where the penguins passed by. We listened to their noises as they called out to each other in the darkness. The Antarctic winds whipped across our faces.

It suddenly struck me. This is Narrative two.

I’m living it. Right now. Here.

It was an opportunity to rewrite my story. A story worth living, even after the tragedy that threatened to destroy me.

If you can believe in multiple paths, you can change your narrative.

If you can believe that whatever you don’t know, you can learn—it will happen.

If you have a willingness to try new things, you can change your narrative.

If you can take the time to figure out your preferences, it can happen. What do you like to do? What feels like enchantment in your life?

If you can believe in yourself, you can write any narrative you want.

And when something changes and the story isn’t what you want anymore, you can keep writing new ones. You don’t have to be a hostage to any narrative. Give yourself permission.

Tell yourself the stories about those times when you were courageous. Tell stories about your strength, perseverance, and resilience. Tell stories about how strong you are.

Tell the stories of your survival. The ones where you got through the hardest of times and experienced joy again. The stories where you knew in your bones that life was worth living.

You have those stories. Those are the ones to repeat.

Tell them over and over again so you never forget who you really are.

About Teresa Shimogawa

Teresa Shimogawa is a human being trying to do good things in the world. She is also a young widow who wants to be remembered as someone who turned her pain into something beautiful. You can find more of her writing at www.houseofteresa.com.

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from Tiny Buddha https://tinybuddha.com/blog/story-shapes-your-life-change-any-time/

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starandserpent-blog · 7 years

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Rituals of the old

Rituals of the old has been in development for 256 days today. I wanted to celebrate this by writing a bit more than usual and going through what's been going on with the project during this time.

How did it all start

I had been modding a popular block building sandbox game for years. My efforts had pretty much reached their limit during the 4 years and some ~10 000 development hours I put into modding the game. The bugs and limitations of the platform were beginning to restrict my creativity. It got me thinking one day that it was crazy to put so much development time into a game made by someone else since with the same amount of effort - and then some - it would be possible to build your own game which was designed from the ground up to work like I wanted to and hopefully with less bugs and other restrictions!

We put together a core team that same day and started planning the style, technical solutions and game play content and so the Star and serpent team and Rituals of the old was born.

The name

"Rituals of the old" was not my first choice for a name, but it turns out that other people have lived before me and done some pretty interesting stuff. Most of the names I wanted to use were already taken or recognized brands in other fields of industries - or the web addresses were simply reserved or contained words which were too common to be even consider in any sensible project which doesn't want to be on the last page in all search results.

I made a long list of names and meticulously compared and ranked them according to how cool I thought they were, how well they reflected the game we wanted to make and how the names would fare in search results, etc.

"Once you eliminate the impossible, what ever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth."

-- Arthur Conan Doyle

In our case what ever remained was to be our game's name. Like our game house's name (Star and serpent) the phrase "Rituals of the old" comes from the second chapter of a certain holy book. While the name does not completely reflect the whole variety of the game it reflect some aspects of it and I thought it would be fitting enough. Also it sounds intriguing and will stop you for a while.

The origin

First and foremost we wanted to continue what I had already been doing for the past 4 years. We wanted to expand upon the worlds and lore that I had created in a surrounding where we could realize all the ideas and interesting details which were not possible before due to the constraints of the old platform.

Originally the world of the Rituals of the old was a saga in three parts, each of which told a story of a different era in an alternate history of human kind.

In the distant past there was the Galactic Imperium which took place on several planets and in the vast regions of space, space stations and asteroid belts. It was a time of highly advanced technology and space travel. The human kind had spread all over the galaxy and was living in decadence and corruption.

In between there was the End of the World in a post apocalyptic setting after the fall of the Galactic Imperium. Radioactive wastelands, acid rains and all nature ruined, great cities in ruins and space junk raining down from the orbit devastating everything.

The last part of the saga, Kingdom of the Sun, took place in the distant future after the two other eras had ended and it was a time of enlightenment and time of peace. Mankind had returned to it's roots and took joy not in the technologies and war but in the simple ways of life and manual labor. All the kingdoms were united under the rule of one Sun emperor in a feudal setting with remains of the ancient technologies - force fields, sub space communicators, black powder guns, wind mills, etc. still existing here and there but people paid no attention to such things.

The concept

Without understanding the above the world of Rituals of the old can be confusing - is this the Earth? Is this the medieval times? Why are there old technologies like the black powder guns in this era? Why are there highly advanced things like force fields and cloning vats? What is this?!

Rituals of the old depicts the alternate and True history of mankind. It is not the history that we, the inhabitants of the Earth, know and in this alternate history the origin of the mankind is certainly not the planet Earth (as we ignorantly like to think).

Above you can see a crude sketch of the timelines. The timeline above is missing some thing like, for example, the histories of the other numerous colonies and the fall of the first ancestors of Koto in an atomic war. After the fall the descendants of the original survivors lead primitive lives as tribals and begun rebuilding their culture slowly. The same thing happened on Earth around 65 million BCE and leading up to our modern times.

The setting of Rituals of the old takes place on the planet Koto some generations after the happenings of the year 100 093 BCE. Some of the ancient pre-fall technologies of the original ancestors lie hidden beneath Koto - or so it is rumored. And some of technologies were left behind by the Great Galactic Imperium after their exodus from the planet to fight in the galactic wars.

And so we end up with the present times of the game in a setting on an alternate timeline where the people are living mostly happy and content simple lives in a surrounding which is a melting pot of rare surviving lore of the ancient times, broken down technologies from relatively recent invaders from the Great Galactic Imperium (which are already beginning to turn into a stuff of legends and myth in some minds). And the remains of the tribal lives are meeting the lives of farmers and villagers and the bit more modern city people.

Then we put forbidden magic, old forbidden gods and shadowy creatures of myth into the mix, add a sprinkle of social change, unrest and upheaval under the surface and hide in some secret wars.

...And what you end up with is the world of Rituals of the old.

Rituals of the old is a Sandbox RPG

Rituals of the old is a sandbox RPG. But what is a sandbox RPG?

A RPG or a Role Playing Game is generally considered a game type where you run around doing quests following a pre-written story line.

A sandbox on the other hand is a game type where you are thrown into a world without explanations and you are free to do what ever you want without a predefined set of goals.

Finally, we have the sandbox RPG which is a game type where you are thrown into a world with rich lore, stories and interesting surroundings - but no clear goal or defining quest lines.

In Rituals of the old you are free to make your own stories with other players, but you are given a surrounding of rich lore, histories and backgrounds. And the inhabitants of the world react to your presence and actions by their own sense of morality.

Our goal is to build a living vivid world where NPCs (non player characters) go about their business and lives in a simulated mini society working, meetings friends and spending leisure time by following simple pre-scripted behavior patterns determined by the AI (artificial intelligence).

Art

Our goal is to achieve a low poly art style which aims for a level of "minimum immersion" required to make the players stop thinking about the graphics and instead start thinking about what's happening in the game world. Relatively simple and pretty in it's own right for those who like the low poly style.

The benefits for the game development include that the models are easy to make, fast to texture and low poly means that we will have more memory to spend on other more interesting things. Instead of doing one model for weeks on end we can spend more of the development time on things like having more animations.

It is extremely difficult to make a game which looks realistic. There are many games that try and fail and end up looking disappointingly crappy where as a more simple style would have benefited the development by saving time and effort and benefited the players by being clearly a work of fiction.

It is my opinion that the content always trumps graphics.

Where are we now and what have we been doing

We've been hard at work for the past 256 days (and the 4 years before that!) and have had some ups and downs along the way.

In just 256 days we have achieved:

- Working game client. - Working game server. - Simple world generation. - Launcher. - Basic UI - Networking. - Multiplayer. - Verification server. - And other smaller things.

It perhaps doesn't sound like much, but first of all you have to take into consideration the amount of planning required for such a project to succeed and that takes time too, several months in fact - and we have only one person working on the project full time, me. Others are doing everything on their free time after their regular jobs or studies.

And nobody is getting paid.

We don't have any kind of financing backing for the project. Our expenses are currently somewhere between 100-200 $ per month and they come right off the pockets of yours truly (and no, they are not very deep pockets).

So in many ways we are in a similar situation as many other indie projects who are just starting up.

Group funding might become an option later on but it's spooky scary stuff and a difficult wagon to jump on. It would mean effectively turning a currently hobby project straight into a commercial venture. That would mean a lot more pressure to achieve things on time, ie. we would have to achieve our goals before the money runs out. And there would be a lot more expenses to consider.

It is not the best option at this time. And we definitely need a more of a product to exhibit before getting serious about things. But it's in the back of my mind.

We are also very lucky to have a small group of dedicated fans (thank you all!) who have been a tremendous help and support along the way.

Recent troubles

We lost some 2-3 months worth of character modeling and animations due to irredeemable errors in the models which prevented them from being imported to JmonkeyEngine. On the other hand this gave us a chance to take a step back and rethink our character design. In retrospect we should have tested that all the pipelines work before getting too far with the models. A lesson learned.

We might be going from this:

To this:

We've also had the great misfortune of encountering some serious issues due to incompatible licensing between Autodesk products and open source projects which make importing and exporting models between different software really difficult and in some situations impossible. They are being worked around as we speak. But it is development time wasted which could have been used for actual progress.

Interesting fact: We've had fourteen (!) 3D modelers and artist so far. Artists... Oh the fickleness of thy temper!

“You are no surer, no, than is the coal of fire upon the ice or hailstone in the sun. He that depends upon your favors swims with fins of lead.”

-- William Shakespeare

But we keep on swimming nonetheless. The core team has been very solid and dedicated.

Languages

Every once in a while when I have time from other more pressing things I've been developing a language called Root for Rituals of the old - and sometimes streaming the process (https://www.twitch.tv/pilvinen2). It's very interesting, action filled and exciting to watch! /sarcasm :-)

Above you can see a work in progress translation I've been doing. I usually write some kind of story down and then begin translating it. When I encounter words that the language does not have yet I research how those words are formed and write them down in the dictionary.

Root language has a very simple grammar and should be relatively easy to learn. I won't publish the whole dictionary, instead I will leave it up to the players who are interested in languages to work out what everything means. Learning the language will be completely optional. It is designed to add to the atmosphere of the game rather than being an essential part of the game.

Above you can see the whole runic alphabet. All the runes have a name and a meaning and also numeric value. The runes of creation "äin, ain, enna, inni, oru, öry, unni and ynni" have a special significance in the Root language. Consonants are considered just breaks and form and the vowels are the strength and durability

Exchanging the back vowels of the word to front vowels (and vice versa) reverses the meaning of the word. For example "Zain" thaumaturgy becomes "Zäin" mundane. The word "Tef" gate turns into "Tif" obstacle (in Root 'i' is considered a front vowel of 'e').

If the word contains other vocals besides "i,e" all the "i"'s and "e"'s will remain unaffected by the reversal like for example in the word "Unni" air which turns into "Ynni" earth.

The back vowels "a,e,u,o" in words generally have a positive connotation and are considered feminine.

The front vowels "ä,i,ö,y" in words generally have a negative connotation and are considered masculine.

"Z" ending in a word usually denotes supernatural and out of the ordinary things, for example: "ako+z" turns the meaning of "food" (ako) into especially good food (akoz). "Jum+z" turns meaning of "large" (jum) into abnormally large (jumz).

Most of the words in Root language are constructed through combining runes and words. For example: "Wel, greater, feminine" becomes through the reversal of the vowels "Wil, lesser, masculine" and since "Mem" is "a human" therefore "Memwel" is a human female and "Memwil" is a human male or the lesser human who cannot give birth to life.

Sometimes when the meaning of the words is not obvious the connection can come from their numeric value and their nature can be deduced by simple mathematics. For example "Eb" or "love" from the runes "Enna+Bir" - Enna has the meaning "unity" and the rune Bir has the numeric value 2, ie. love is "two uniting". And when you calculate their numeric value Enna (5) + Bir (2) you get 7 or the rune Fu which has the meaning "dream". And while we're on the subject when we combine "Eb" or "love" and "wel" or "greater" what do we get? Great love? No, instead we get the meaning "fool" because great love invites foolishness "a fool in love".

This is very interesting to me and I could go on and on about it. Unfortunately I don't have as much time to develop the Root language from my other duties as I'd like to.

Polls

We've been running a poll for some months on our web page and while I was hoping for a larger focus group here are the results:

What surprises me here is the amount of voter who have wanted role playing features and the low amount of votes for building and PvE combat. I have a hunch that these statistics would greatly change if more people would have voted.

But nonetheless we will try to put more focus on RPG features, magic and survival against the elements in the future.

As you can see here most of the votes come from Europe, especially Finland, which is understandable because Star and serpent is based in Finland and people here know us previously from the modding scene. As we progress further along with Rituals of the old this geographic distribution will most likely shift.

We are looking for a 3D artist

Do you have 3D modeling skills and you are looking for an interesting project to participate in? Check out our jobs section at the Indiedb:

http://www.indiedb.com/jobs/3d-artist89

Participate

We always love to hear your ideas and feedback. If you wish to participate please join our forums and let us know what you think - or catch us at our international Discord channel.

Web site: https://www.ritualsoftheold.com/

Forums: https://www.ritualsoftheold.com/community/

Discord chat: https://discord.gg/jCQW4uC

#lowpoly #voxel game #voxelart #voxel #Rituals of the old #Indiegame #indiegamedev #gamedev

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