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Lurkily last won the day on November 5

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About Lurkily

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    Reasoned but irresponsible.

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  1. Lurkily

    Take a question, leave a question.

    Just . . . . . no. I can't do it. One is already demanding enough. (Not that he's hard, Alvin is really kind of demanding. Lap, now. Move that aside, the king needs a heated seat.) If anything, maybe another cat, so that the maintenance is more of the same and there are fewer challenges in them getting along. Trek or wars? Which is your favorite movie/series in the set?
  2. Lurkily

    Take a question, leave a question.

    I have one cat, Alvin. My apartment is a bit small for lots of animals. He gets into EVERYTHING. I'm taking him to the vet later today because he ate part of a zip lock bag, and I have to make sure there isn't a blockage. Do you create? What? Stories, artwork, craftsmanship?
  3. Lurkily

    Storytime: "Dire gifts"

    Every time I come back to an older story, I find things I would change, that dissatisfy me. But I guess that's the nature of skill itself; (Or perhaps the nature of art, or maybe talent. I don't know.) if you develop it, you'll never be fully satisfied with what's behind you. Just have to leave it behind, be satisfied that you set it free.
  4. Lurkily

    Storytime: "Dire gifts"

    I wasn't sure I wanted to share this one. The story in it is . . . okay. But I re-read it, and I realized the people and the emotions are the real story. I like the people involved. I like the queen, her contradictions, the various masks she wears, and the glimpses beyond that you get. I like Efran, I like his gruffness, his devotion to honest assessment, and his awareness that people don't always want to hear it. I re-read this, and I remembered why I thought there was magic in this one. This was written in response to the prompt:" The elf queen, hearing that yet another young hero was slain during a heroic monologue, decides she’s had enough. She gives her last magical weapon to the grizzled, no-nonsense human guard and says it’s up to him to slay the great evil." Dire Gifts “Dammit! Damn it all, another man dead while bragging to the enemy! Another blade lost! What do these idiots think dire blades are, Efran?” I had not moved during her tirade. She would blow herself out and calm down. She never spoke to me, though. She spoke to her guards all the time, but never to Kirin, or Efran. I was surprised that she knew my name. “I don’t know, grace. But really, what are they? They’re not a birthright or a destiny. Just a rare and powerful tool.” In her frustration, and being alone, she had laid across her throne. Her head laid on one arm, her knees hooked over the other. Now though, she flipped over, kneeling in the seat with her hands on the arm, and her ocean-blue eyes on mine. Her gaze was uncomfortably intense. “Uh . . . did I give offense, your grace?” “No. No, you make sense. More sense than any of those posturing dead men.” She stared a moment longer – then her gaze broke. “It’s useless. I have one blade left. A dagger! Nobody can fight their way through that darkness with a dagger.” For a moment, I considered the problem. A blade was a blade. But this was not just a blade, and people had strong opinions where the gods were concerned. “I see your hesitancy. Speak, Efran.” ” . . . Your grace, a dagger is just a spear with a shorter shaft.” “They are gods-given! You would slap a god in the face with the insufficiency of their gifts!?” I read shock, and a little anger in her eyes, and knew I was on shaky ground. I hesitated and sought the right way to frame my thoughts. “I gave my daughter a set of kitchen knives once. When she traveled, she had one blade ground down to a belt dagger. It saved her life, and I was not displeased.” She stared at me, intent. “You do not think they would take offense?” “They say the gods watch over the valley temple and speak in its halls. Have the work done beneath their gaze.” “Efran. I will trust this to you. You can involve nobody in the palace. Make a spear in the Temple of the Gods.” Her eyes on mine were intensely focused, and crouched on her throne she looked both imposing and youthfully naive. She’s twice my age, I thought. How can she seem so young? “I will do this for you, grace. I will keep your secret.” “Good. Send in someone to relieve you at your post. You begin immediately. Take this.” She took the royal seal off her belt. “Grace, I don’t need this for the task.” She looked at me, confused. “This is my authority. It says that your word is mine. It is honor and power. You don’t want it?” “Grace–” “You speak to me plainly. While we are alone, call me Acacia.” “Your gr–” She lifted a finger sharply. “Ah-ah-ah! Acacia. Like the flower.” “…Acacia. I am honored. But I can do this without it. Every time that seal leaves your side, it places you at risk. It should not be without need.” “There is a need. You will carry a dire blade. I can’t have people asking questions. And I need you to take it. Don’t ask me why, Efram.” She pushed the seal upon me, and reluctantly, I took it. ‘Seal’ was a bit of a misnomer. It was a slim, square box of dark wood with a lid that covered the imperial crest, keeping it hidden until its authority was required. “I am honored . . . Acacia.” “Good!” She smiled and sat up straight on her throne, the youthful excitement vanishing. Sometimes she was like a child; sometimes she was this cold matriarch. “Send in the minister, and a guard to take over your post.” I knew the time for familiarity was over. “Yes, your Grace.” I made my way to the armory and gained admittance with her seal. I had to show it twice before I was alone in the most secure vault. Seven empty racks, seven men dead from their arrogance. I found the dagger; it was the last of the dire blades, and the oldest. I lifted it from the rack and felt the hilt thrumming against my skin. I had always wondered, everybody did, if they would be worthy. A dire blade wasn’t destiny, but it took a man of principle not to be burned by them. It didn’t matter, though. I didn’t need to wield it. I belted the blade to my hip and left. It was a week before I returned to her. She cleared the room, and once alone I knelt before her and unlaced the long bag. The blade shone a smoky gray, and the shaft of the spear was wrapped with a web of smoky gray steel, a chaotically patterned inlay along the entire shaft of the spear. “That’s dire steel. Why is the entire shaft covered in dire steel?” “Imre once gifted your ancestor this dagger, and we did the work in a space reserved for her worship. The craftsman said he heard her voice, but didn’t understand. He carved the inlay without knowing why, and every time he looked back, the metal grew from the blade to fill it. The blade is bigger now, too. The spear will be too big for most elves, though.” “She approves of our work. She sees our need. Yes, she knew what I wanted. She made it for a human. It’s just the right size for you to wield.” I looked up in shock. “Empress, I can’t. This weapon isn’t for me. I’m not a noble.” “Oh?” I looked up at her, confused. “The spear seems okay with it. I checked with your captain. He says that your mother’s brother was–” “That’s not in my blood. He married into it.” When I fell silent, I realized that I had interrupted her. There was a cold moment of silence to let me know that she noticed it too. Her expression gentled though as she leaned forward in her throne, watching me. “It is enough . . . did you know that if any of those ‘heroes’ succeeded, they would have been able to lay claim to this kingdom?” I raised my head, surprised, and shook it slowly. “This kingdom was founded upon a singular act, the quelling of a great evil a thousand years ago. This evil; it isn’t new, only newly-woken. With the symbol that founded our kingdom behind them, they would have a claim. To keep my rule without violence, I would have to take a king, and that . . . that would only trade one usurper for another. I send each one out, without trusting them a bit.” I lowered my eyes. The thought of Acacia marrying sat in my gut like a stone. It seemed I had gained some affection for her. No, more than that, I thought. She was both old and young, playful and stern, principled and whimsical. The contradiction of her had always enticed me. And she had just laid out a path by which she might be in reach to a commoner. No, not any commoner; just me. “Are you saying . . . you trust me?” “I allow you my name, don’t I? I permitted – demanded that you speak plainly with me. I gave you my seal to elevate you among other men.” She rose and stepped down from her throne to where I kneeled, taking my hands and pulling me up. “You speak sense to me. You don’t let me sulk. If you can succeed at this, Efran, I’ll need you.” My heart skipped a beat, and her ocean-blue eyes met mine. “Like this matter with the dire blade. This kingdom raised me in a crown, everybody eager to please me. I need your mind, your honesty, and your sense.” “Just my mind, your grace?” My use of her title wasn’t a mistake; she noticed the distance the words created, too, and reached up, her small hands on my cheeks. “Not just your mind.” She smiled, a blush overtaking her, then she giggled, turning away, rushing back to her throne. There was nowhere there to hide her face, though, and she stood with her back to me. She probably thought she hid her blush, but her long ears were beet red. I bent and picked up the spear. The uncertainty of my life scared me more than the evil I was about to face. My future had always been a known quantity. The city guard, the palace guard, promotions, a captain’s badge. I’d climb the ranks and serve as well as I could. Setting my whole life onto an unknown course was terrifying. Nobility? The hero of a country? What would I do? I couldn’t be a soldier anymore. And . . . a husband? I tied a cover down over the head of the spear, to protect it as I traveled. “Your grace, I’ll do this for you. You can trust me. When I return, I will support your rule, and give you my counsel in any way that I can.” She turned, shy, and let me see her blushing cheeks. “Only your council?” I smiled as I watched her turn, and stepped closer. After a brief hesitation, I cupped her cheek and tilted her face up. I bent to lower my lips to her brow; she leaned up to offer her lips instead. They were soft, and my heart was pounding as I stepped back, beating so loud that she must be able to hear it. “No, Acacia. Not only my council.”
  5. Keep in mind, I'm also willing to engage political questions - I know our agency is a controversial one - as long as things stay civil. Oh, all the time. The scanners we used are basically CT scanners; they use x-ray, and there's a lot they can't penetrate. Sometimes an object is just made of metal, and indistinct, other times, such as with film, they put things in shielded containers. (film bags are sometimes lead lined specifically to get through x-ray safely.) In that case, you just have to open it and see. If you can't say it's safe, it doesn't fly. And sometimes people lock it up. At our airport, you brought checked luggage to us, so we often had a passenger there to unlock it. But when we didn't, we still had some options. TSA locks have keys that allow us to open the lock. We also, some of us, kept common keys with us; masterlock and brinks sold replacement keys for some locks, and they're sometimes (not always) interchangeable. More common in cheap luggage locks. I personally got and learned to use a lockpick kit. Sometimes, though, we just had to use bolt cutters. We'd page them, try our keys, it would resist our picks, we couldn't split the zipper if it was a metal zipper... we just cut the lock off. Locks integrated into clasps we sometimes had to open with a crowbar. The worst were the big pelican cases. Tough ABS plastic, four eyelets big enough for heavy duty locks, and our cutters aren't made for hardened steel lock hasps, we didn't have the tools to cut the plastic eyelets. More than one like that just didn't make it to the destination.
  6. Lurkily

    I'm a long time player!

    Welcome on board! Be sure to ask a moderator if you need any help with anything.
  7. I've been told this interests some people, so here's an AMA. I screened luggage, not people, and in my role, only what would go under the plane, not what the passenger could access, so we didn't care much about knives and such. What I won't do is divulge specifications of equipment, procedures, or anything that would qualify as "Sensitive Security Information". But I can go into the generalities of how things functioned and what we worried about. Also keep in mind, my information is about two years out of date.
  8. Lurkily

    Make Terrain Suffer Collision Damage?

    Miniscule terrain damage for miniscule physics force, more damage for more force - it will make digging that way either inefficient except for the most miniscule particles, or a threat to your ship.
  9. Lurkily

    Make Terrain Suffer Collision Damage?

    This is good. I can get behind this. +1.
  10. Lurkily

    Storytime: "Gentle slayer"

    I liked this one a lot. A lot of chemistry erupted between the characters. This was written in response to the prompt: "The Brave Knight has been kidnapped against his will by the Beautiful Princess, now it’s up to the Scary Dragon to go rescue him." I didn't stick strictly to the prompt, but one of the rules of a writing prompt is that you don't need to. Gentle Slayer I awoke in bonds, hanging from my wrists. I lifted my head, taking my bearings; the inside of a cabin, perhaps a peasant dwelling. No tapestries, no trophies, no portraits, the furniture all made of unadorned wood. The wood wasn’t local, and though plain, the craftsmanship very good. A silver cross on the wall. Perhaps not a peasant’s home, but a tradesman’s, or a priest’s. Simple, but not poor. My armor, which I had been wearing while out riding, lay piled on the table along with my sword belt. I twisted to look behind me – I had been tied to a support column, and there were cuffs of metal on my wrists, secured by a tightly fastened bolt. I could cry out, but would anybody hear me? I heard no horses or carriages, no sounds of human civilization. Best not to alert my captor yet, if I could help it. I crouched, bracing my feet on the floor, and pushed back against the support column as hard as I could; perhaps I could break it. I strained against it with no luck, then lifted away, and slammed my back against it. “Don’t bother dear, the house is very sturdy.” I snapped my head up, and a familiar face came out from deeper within the house. “Princess Ravencort? Karina? What the hell is going on here? Quickly, get over here and loose these shackles.” She looked at me, a little surprised, then giggled, a sound like pure crystal. “Oh, Prince. Don’t fear. I kidnapped you.” I scoffed at her – she probably weighed under a hundred pounds soaking wet. “It’s true, dear. I know you like me; I saw the way you looked at me. We can be together, instead of your father forcing you to be with that muscle-bound lummox who pretends to be a warrior.” “My father would marry me to Genevieve for an alliance with her father’s, to protect our western border. I would marry her because she has honor, and a mind like a whip, and because I like muscle on my women.” I watched her as I spoke, as every barb cut her heart. Her expression darkened quickly. “No. No. I saw how you looked at me. You say this for honor. I saw you; your eyes held desire!” Her voice was less gentle now; I heard a vicious and hysterical edge to it. I knew that edge – it was the voice of a person about to break. “Any man’s gaze will linger on the curves of a female form. You’re pleasant to look at, but you are shallow, vapid, and weak. I would no sooner roll you than I would –” Her hand shot out, and something pure black struck my brow like a hammer blow. “Shut up! Shut up shut up shut up! You will not finish that sentence if you wish to live!” Her voice was wild, now. I tried lifting my head to look at her, and my eyes didn’t want to focus. Her eyes were wild, her hair floating around her strangely, her hand cloaked in some black energy. “What have you blackened your soul with, Princess? Power like this isn’t granted to men, not by forces that love us.” “That doesn’t matter! What matters is that the priest will arrive soon, and he will marry us, and you–” Suddenly my spine straightened, and I couldn’t even turn my eyes to look at her. “–will tell him we’re in love, and need to be married immediately.” When she began unfastening the shackles I tried to strike at her throat. My body didn’t even twitch. As she spoke, she drew me a step forward, my body following her lead like a clumsy dancer being led to the floor, her voice filled with a new, spiteful malice. “Don’t worry, my darling. Once the priest is done, I’ll take you somewhere lonely. I just know you’ll change your mind about me.” “You cannot do such a thing.” I began to worry though that she might be capable of such a thing. I knew a few things she could do – but I was uncomfortably aware that I had no idea what she could not do. Before she could make her reply, a voice boomed, like the sound of stone grinding on stone and formed into words. “This priest, I wonder?” I could feel the deep vibration of that voice through the floorboards; I wondered if the source of the Princess’s power had come to collect on its debt. She rushed to a window, throwing the curtains open, and there stood a dragon – it had a priest in one hand, and my Genevieve in the other. True to her nature, Genevieve was cursing at it. “Damn you, you careless beast; we told you no killing men! You promised it! On your honor! Now put him down, and for the love of all that is holy, put me down!” The dragon had the grace to look a little embarrassed, setting them both down, the priest turning and running as fast as he could. I looked back to Katrina, who was standing at the closed door, blackness gathering around her in clouds. She drew back as if to–“Genny, look out!” The dragon and Genevieve looked up as the power through the closed door. The dragon slammed his tail down, shaking the earth and shielding them both; despite their legendary resistance to dark forces, I caught a glimpse of molten scales and bloody flesh. It lowered its head, neck bent like a snake about to strike, and growled. “I will break our deal. That human is going to die.” Genevieve looked up at the dragon – I could feel the hate coming off him from here. Genevieve apparently knew better than to deny him and nodded her head once. “That one human may die, and our deal will hold.” “Excellent.” The dragon’s voice was filled with malice and pain; I suspect his kind was not used to taking injury from humans. At this, the princess began to laugh. Not the clear silver bell I had heard from her once, now she was cackling, ugly and spiteful. “You! Kill me! You haven’t seen the least of what I can do!” Darkness began to gather around her, and all over the sky around them. I turned my head to try and get a look at the scale of the danger and– I turned my head. The realization of it struck me. She must be dividing her attention too much – I could move, though slowly and stiffly. The dragon was spitting fire, trying to defend itself as blasts of blackness streaking from all directions. It helped – the fire disrupted the energy hurtling towards him, and he blew great fans of flame, defending great swaths of space. Gen’s ancient shield resisted them as well, proving the legends about it true; but there was no way they’d last. He was too big a target. She couldn’t close the distance without exposing her back. They didn’t have the experience working together to cover each other’s weaknesses well. One step. Two. I silently drew a knife from the knife block. Another step, and another. Blackness cloaked Melinda, and I waited – then she flung it to strike again, and I moved, slowly. An arm around her waist, not touching her, poising the knife. Then I pulled her to me, pushing the knife inward under her arm. “What–my prince?” Then she felt the point of the blade. It was too late, then. I couldn’t move quickly, but I was strong, and the blade didn’t have far to go. Through the armpit, straight into her — then I was frozen again. She had re-focused her will upon me, before I could kill her. I saw tears pouring down her cheeks, felt her sobbing, felt blood on the hand that held the knife, like hot grease. Her words were a wail, broken by sobs. “I didn’t want to kill you! I love you! I still love you!” But blackness was gathering in front of my face, and I knew, instinctively, that this wasn’t going to be as kind as the hammer blow I received earlier. Then there was an arrow in her breast. Then another, impacting with such power that it seemed to just sprout from her chest. I was free suddenly, and I drove the knife home. Another arrow impacted, and I could feel the tip striking the knife, both lodged in her heart. Genevieve was still marching forward. She took a step and drew an arrow, took a step and nocked it, then stepped into a kneel, exhaled, and fired. Through her military precision, I could taste her hate. She would march forward an empty her entire quiver into this woman if she could. Another arrow struck, and I held up my hand for her to stop. Gently, I laid Katrina down, and walked out to Genevieve. She rushed forward to meet me, and I hugged her fiercely, clutching her to my chest. “Gen. Damn, it’s good to see you. You were fierce! How in the hell did you get a dragon to help you?” She smiled up at me, bashful – I’d never seen this lioness shy, except in my arms. I liked it. “The king . . . he knew he would be taking the Ravencort family lands in punishment for this. He offered the land to the dragon for his aid here, and his promise not to kill humans outside the land he was granted.” I looked up at the dragon and raised my voice to be heard. “You, sir, I don’t know your ways, but is it impertinent to ask your name?” He lowered his head to nearly my level, to hear me better. I could tell he was trying to subdue his voice, but it was still painfully loud. “It would be. Names have power. But you may call me Gentle Red.” I laughed, but cut it short when his eyes narrowed. “Sorry, but I saw you fight. Gentle doesn’t seem to describe you.” “I didn’t burn her alive, did I?” “You had a deal not to kill me. That might have killed me, too.” “The fire that it set might have killed you, eventually. Not me.” That gave me pause, and a little insight that, though we had common ground, our minds did not necessarily operate on the same principles. “Gentle Red, then. May I visit your lands when you settle in? Without being killed?” He lifted his head, looking down at me until I began to wonder if I’d given offense. “You may. Bring no more than two other humans, and I will not kill you or them.” The earth seemed to shake as he kicked into the air, the downdraft from his wings nearly taking me off my feet. I looked at Genevieve, and cupped her cheek in a hand, smiling as her head tilted to nuzzle into my palm. “That . . . is something I’ll tell stories about for the rest of my life.” She looked up at me, her eyes shining . . . then over my shoulder, her expression turning to stone, the look most people knew. “What do we do about . . . that? Burn her? She doesn’t deserve a burial.” “We will bury her, without dishonor.” Genevieve looked up, her furrowed brows and narrowed green eyes demanding an explanation. “Her father, when he hears, will expect dishonor, loss of lands and title, perhaps execution for him, as well.” “And he may get all of that!” “I won’t permit it. She was a good person, once, corrupted by something that turned love to greedy desire. And though her father will lose his lands, he still loves his daughter. You know he’s a good leader. If we earn some favor, and perhaps he can still be useful to the kingdom. Perhaps even redeem himself.” Genevieve looked down as I spoke, her jaw muscles working, and I touched her cheek where I could see them bunch up. “Don’t grind your teeth. You know it as well as I do. Mercy is a strength, not a weakness.” “I know it. I know it, damn it, but I’m not as strong as you are.” “Genny, you are the toughest human being I know. But she struck your heart. I understand.” She looked up at me, her eyes beginning to tear up, then she moved forward, her face burying itself in my chest. I took her helmet off, and dropped it, ran my fingers through her hair, letting her cry against my chest. Every time I went to war, it was like this – the danger I was in made her miserable, and when I was safe, the dam broke. I said not a word, letting her pretend it was just a hug, even though she had to know that I was aware of her tears. She was a warrior. Such things were important. With time, she stilled, and I cupped a cheek, lifting her face, and kissing her brow – she grabbed my hair, pulling me down further, giving me a fierce kiss on the lips instead. I looked into her eyes, feeling a grin on my face. “When we get back . . . want to spar to see who takes charge?” She grinned back at me, taking her gloves off to slide her hands up my chest. “My warrior prince . . . we’ll have to lock the doors to the training room if we did that.” I winked at her, glad that she understood me immediately. “Yup.”
  11. I've posted a lot of suggestions to make our creations more dynamic, responsive, to intelligently respond and adapt to a player's intentions. I wanted to put up a post about what they look like in a coherent picture. First, the basics. I think logic should be local. That is to say, parts should require a connection to see a signal. Even the lack of such a connection is information that can be of great value to an engineer, activating a missile's flight or indicating to the brain that something critical is destroyed, and I think wireless logic with wireless connectors present is a meaningless 'gimme' that circumvents a logistical problem that could be quite rewarding to overcome via design. Speaking of connectors; I think wireless connectors should go to a pair of units, transmitter and receiver, each with the option for a whitelist or blacklist of signals that are permitted or forbidden. Receivers should act like a simple button, relaying signals that pass their whitelist/blacklist. Connectors currently block signals, but with control over the direction signals travel and the type of signals traveling, I don't think that separation is necessary. Sensors. I would like sensors to have ranges that can be added. A directional sensor might have one range and one tolerance, or five ranges and no tolerances, and it shouldn't have to be filled sideways to adjust the tolerance. Instead, add and adjust ranges as you see fit, and anything you don't set is a tolerance. Self awareness is a big thing. Trackers will help a lot, if sensors can seek a specific tracker, not the nearest or average center. Things like a GPS setting for the directional sensor (your current rotation around the planet, with Nimbatus being 0/360) would also help. Awareness in general will also help. My complex creations often stumble on simple things like not being able to position themselves well, hooking on terrain that slips through sensor fans, unexpected input leaving hinges in unexpected positions, etc. The previous adjustable ranges will help. I think permitting detector sensors to have even a narrow angle, so they're a fan instead of a line, would help with sensor criteria 'dodging' sensors. More criteria for sensors to operate on will also help. Altitude should be a general purpose distance sensor, with units that aren't changed by planet size. Instead, when used for altitude, they should have the option to have a specific starting value. (Altitude of the core, surface, hopper, Nimbatus level, and whatever in between marks are appropriate. ) It should be able to measure distance to any sensor criteria that makes sense. Dynamic sensor control. Sensors can be as powerful as a keyboard in controlling complex behaviors. I'd like to see the ability to adjust the range of a sensor dynamically, the same way dynamic thrusters can be adjusted. That way, fine dynamic control can be achieved without math parts, without dozens of ranges, without tons of logic. Processors. Think of them as a box that can contain a few logic parts. My opinion is that every 1x1 footprint of a processor should contain a 2x2 footprint of sensors or logic. This means you could use them to put very compact directional sensors on a hinge, or put a whole raft of complex logic in a larger processor. The reason is twofold. Obviously, it makes streamlined construction easier. But it also reduces part count for logic. Sumo is far too dependent on brute force - smart drones are weaker drones. I'd like to see that mitigated to reward intelligent design and intelligent done behavior more in asynchronous multiplayer. By limiting the available size of professors, or by damaging the parts it contains when the processor is damaged, you also aren't totally eliminating the threat posed by logic damage. In the end, this will provide wired logic as a challenge, with a simple transmission system to overcome it that is intuitive, and treats all signals the same, while still providing exacting control. It will provide dynamic, precise behaviors without requiring math. It grants a player more awareness to tune complex behaviors by as they cruise around, as well as granting awareness of your own drone's behavior via trackers. It rewards intelligent design in sumo and any part restricted game mode, without limiting the vulnerability of logic.
  12. Lurkily

    Development WIP

    Here's a thought. What about 3- or 4-player races? What about races with hazards and enemies, circular tracks, and regen disabled, for a last-man-standing race?
  13. Lurkily

    Development WIP

    How about using the number of the month, plus the number 1-10, as a seed for procedural tracks? That way you'd have a set of ten tracks that persist for a month to gather high scores. (Would you remember all high scores? Could you also generate "You did better than x% of users' best scores? Even beating 50% can be rewarding for players that aren't really completionists.) Better yet, use the number of days since an arbitrary past date, multiply by 3 and divide by 12 as a seed, (and add one for to the result for each subsequent track,) so that instead of 10 tracks every thirty days, you get one new track every 3 days. The editor strikes me as really challenging. A lot of work's involved in design and coding; the UI, the internal framework. And if tracks are shared, making sure they have a scoring mechanic as well as doing sanity checks to make sure they don't have inherent flaws, like a rabbit path that hits a wall.
  14. Lurkily

    Greetings, I'm new here

    Welcome to the community, we're glad you've decided to add your voice! Be sure to let a moderator know if you need anything.
  15. Lurkily

    Development WIP

    I was more concerned with whether the rabbit would move forward because you moved sideways - but you answered that to my satisfaction, it sounds like the rabbit can't outrun you, and that's all I was concerned about. With the spline design, procedural tracks look more plausible; throw up a semi-ordered array of track points for the spline path, pile up borders paralleling the path, randomly vary width, throw in some other semi-random hijinks. I recognize that it's not something you're planning right now. But when you're satisfied with race mechanics and are ready to see what else you can do with it, I think all the tools for procedural tracks are right there.