#flatcircle

Improving Shaders!

hello guys! we have been working about improving shaders, not only for the player, rather the whole the game! doing some different versions of the base shader for another objects and polish the existing shaders, one of the reasons that we had to polish those is because some errors were presented, for instance, they do not project shadows if the light was a point or a spot.

This could be it. My big chance at creating that original content we all crave. an anonymous fountain of insight from the very important view of the outlier. Or the try-hard to not try-hard. I recently read a thinkpiece about the status of society’s importance on importance. The need for community approval. The resistance to washing in with crashing tides. Each our own moon. With caffeinated fingers and ten lbs to loose. 

Gaming was supposed to be a fun activity in the beginning. At least that was until he began comfortably beating everyone he came up against. It was when he finally met his match at the World Cyber Games that he realised he had a competitor who could hold his own. ArKo, as his player ID read, was a child prodigy from a far away country, supposedly raised by his parents who wanted him to be nothing other than a world champion, stage managed till he becomes the greatest in the world. He didn’t want to take him head on, as he came to realise that defeat would permanently label either one as second best which was when he decided to invite him to join him to build the greatest team history. ArKo proved to be quite enthused by the idea and they became fast friends. ArKo listened well, even outside the game. Messaging him was the only way he could get all his burdens and anxieties out. He developed a connection with ArKo as he had never done with anyone before. And so when ArKo suggested they meet up for a head to head meeting to discuss the future of their team he was only too happy to comply. What he didn’t account for was the fact that ArKo turned out to not be a 16 year old boy like him. He screamed as ArKo dragged him into his car and cried to be let go. He struggled as he was being pinned down in the warehouse but managed to wrap his hand around a broken bottle. He stabbed ArKo repeatedly till the obese 50 year man stopped sputtering and sat there covered in blood. He thought his ordeal was over. It had only just begun. “Elderly man stabbed by teenage hoodlum” screamed the news paper as the police showed up at his house. The public posted their anger at this Despicable act of violence online. Tweets were made asking for punishment, politicians turned to promising better safety laws for the elderly and the media ensured the trial only went one way and the law was amended to reflect the effects of this gory case. When he stepped out of jail, he was now a 30 year old man. He had grown up in gaol, hardened by incarceration, with no sensitivity to human understanding. He developed a pathological hatred of all humans. By the time he was done, he would make sure he actually earned the 14 years of torture his fellow man had made him endure. He would commit crimes of unspeakable violence and depravity and he would ensure he took as many people with him as he could on his way to hell. She was playing with a dog on her front lawn. A pretty little girl in a pretty little dress. She would make a fine first victim. He would make sure the media actually had something to talk about this time. As he walked down to her he experienced flashes in the hot sun. The disgusting wet sound of ArKo’s tongue as he licked his ear from behind. The indescribable pain as ArKo repeatedly drove into him as he screamed for relief. He was going to make sure the little girl felt every single emotion. He would document it all so the public knew they were responsible for the monster they created. He approached her stealthily with a knife plotting his moves as she turned around to see him. She had an impossibly perfect face, angelic beauty that stunned even him for a few seconds. He blinked as she squinted up at him. “Hello! You look thirsty, would you like some water? Then we can sit and play with Mr. Puppy!” He began sobbing as he knelt down to cup her face in his rough, prison hardened hands. How could he defile something so pure, so innocent, so full of life! He saw how stupid and impotent his blind fury at the World was. How could he blame the evils of men on this sweet little child? No, he would change his ways. He would pick up the pieces of his broken life and build it anew. What he did not see was the sharp blow from a wooden club to the back of his head. He collapsed blinded by pain as he was set upon by two burly guards. He woke up in the prison hospital with a newspaper lying by his side.