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 Post subject: Re: Storm Shinobi's STUFFs
PostPosted: May 12th, 2011, 12:37 pm 
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http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mufti_(dress)
More this meaning. Named after the fact we didn't have to come in on holidays. The difference is that to play/eat/whathaveyou at the stalls and attractions, you had to purchase these tickets to do so. All proceeds went to charity. So it was largely a pile of stuff donated to make money which gets donated to charity. Of course most of us did stuff like haunted houses or brought consoles that charged per play and random game stalls rather than sell food or anything- stuff that requires no capital basically. I think food was mostly handled by the school itself, been too long to remember. And you at certain stalls you would win prize coupons which could be redeemed for... more random donated stuff.


I definitely had my tests back with percentages on them in my school(an international school so I assumed its kinda like that in many places), at least for the more minor chapter tests and mid trimester/trimester tests. Its just for the end of year finals in the final year, the papers get shipped all the way to England to get marked(GCSEs) and then we get a lousy grade letter with no percentile mark. Although for SATs back in Year 9, we had Levels that we got graded with. In those cases we don't even get our papers back! Unless we demand them or something. Other years that had tests, we got our percentages back, except in Year 6 which was also SATs.

We also had mock exams that were marked by our teachers rather than examiners over the ocean. Our teachers gave us the exact percentage we got along with the lettered grade.


In the Australian University system I was in for a while, stuff got marked with a Pass, Credit, Distinction and High Distinction. Well there was stuff like Fail and Conceded Pass too. They came with the percentile mark as well, but well they were uploaded on the university portal rather than handed out to us.

How did you get your tests back over there exactly?

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 Post subject: Re: Storm Shinobi's STUFFs
PostPosted: May 12th, 2011, 2:26 pm 
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Storm_Shinobi wrote:
Its just for the end of year finals in the final year, the papers get shipped all the way to England to get marked

Where the heck are you from? Sounds like from the age of colonialism. :P2:

Storm_Shinobi wrote:
How did you get your tests back over there exactly?

Could you rephrase that question, please? I'm not sure what you are aiming at.

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 Post subject: Re: Storm Shinobi's STUFFs
PostPosted: May 12th, 2011, 9:10 pm 
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I went to an international school which isn't the most common school for students to go to here. Since British syllables, British examiners mark it. We were an ex-colony though.

I was asking how you got your tests back in your high school. Since you don't seem familiar with the tests back with a percentage written on them thing, I was wondering just how they graded it and gave it back to you.

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 Post subject: Re: Storm Shinobi's STUFFs
PostPosted: May 14th, 2011, 3:23 pm 
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Storm_Shinobi wrote:
Since British syllables, British examiners mark it.

Syllables? Could it be you mean "syllabus"?
It's not a very frequent term, I think, but I cannot forget it because the male protagonist in Armitage III. had such a name. :sweat:

Storm_Shinobi wrote:
I was asking how you got your tests back in your high school. Since you don't seem familiar with the tests back with a percentage written on them thing, I was wondering just how they graded it and gave it back to you.

Germany uses arbirtrary numbers, in different systems...
Comparable to the US, where they'll give you something in the range from "A" (very good) to "F" (as in "Fucked up"), most of the time we'd get grades from "1" (very good) to "6" ("why did you even bother to pick up the pen?"). The first ten years of school use this system, the last two or three are a little different again, the "highschool years" you might say.

During this time we apply a system from "00" ("failed") to "15" (very, very good), like you can have marks like "A", "A-", or "A+". "15" is the equivalent of a "1+" and "01" would be "5-". "00" = "6", failure = failure, there is no "better -" or "worse failure", as in "close, but no cigar", there's no "6+" or "6-" - dead is dead.

College differs only a bit. It's almost impossible to get a paper or examination graded with a "6". Anything below "4" means that you fail and have to repeat the seminar. A "5" means, jokingly, something like "at least you tried" or "your presence was appreciated but you don't have what it takes" - a "6" would only be given if you didn't show up to take the test to begin with.

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 Post subject: Re: Storm Shinobi's STUFFs
PostPosted: June 2nd, 2011, 2:00 pm 
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University assignments how I love thee.

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5 scenes down, 12 more to go. Kinda worried about hitting my 30 second quota now, but I could probably pad it out in areas. Like the UFO landing could do with a few more frames when it lands. And I have a scene with the girl jumping through the air with lasers flashing by which I could probably pad out a bit...

Either way I have a newfound respect for animators. But I do not envy them one bit. The job is painful.

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 Post subject: Re: Storm Shinobi's STUFFs
PostPosted: June 5th, 2011, 7:37 am 
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Good luck with the assignment.
That is... in German we'd often rather say "Good success!" because "luck is for the unskilled".
Unless luck is one of your skills. :P2:

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 Post subject: Re: Storm Shinobi's STUFFs
PostPosted: June 11th, 2011, 5:06 pm 
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And finally its done sans audio.

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 Post subject: Re: Storm Shinobi's STUFFs
PostPosted: June 20th, 2011, 3:54 pm 
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Very nice! Congratulations on a job well done.
I suppose spin-kicks would take the animation challenge to a whole new level? :P2:

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 Post subject: Re: Storm Shinobi's STUFFs
PostPosted: June 21st, 2011, 12:37 am 
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The challenge would be pretty great I suppose but by no means undoable at my skill level. Some research and planning needed, I can sorta fathom how to do it. Depends on the type of spin kick as well, twirling towards the screen or just plain sideways? But its mostly willpower that is the barrier.

And from the looks of the class presentation, I totally nailed it anyway compared to everybody else. So I probably won't be touching this for a while.


Kinda grew fond of the concept though so I might so something else with it. The main character will need a different face design since well, its kinda incapable of facial expression at the moment.

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 Post subject: Re: Storm Shinobi's STUFFs
PostPosted: August 7th, 2011, 5:03 pm 
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Sketch dump.

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 Post subject: Re: Storm Shinobi's STUFFs
PostPosted: August 13th, 2011, 4:23 pm 
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Very nice drawings ha...I never get that sketchy thing I see a lot on a lot of drawings...whenever I would draw its an attempt to make it perfect the first time...I can't find myself having lines all over the place...even if I tried ha... :sweat:

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 Post subject: Re: Storm Shinobi's STUFFs
PostPosted: August 13th, 2011, 4:39 pm 
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... and your trademark sturdy shoes. I wouldn't want these girls to kick me. :lol:

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 Post subject: Re: Storm Shinobi's STUFFs
PostPosted: August 25th, 2011, 2:33 pm 
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Leather armour outfit for the princess of Princesscapades. I was trying for stylistic anatomy... then in the end it just didnt happen even though I thought it was happening. Been fleshing it out as a concept for a 2D Metroidvania game.

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Frilly nonsense.

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A robot thingy I did for a game pitch. The pitch was rejected, but what the heck - it was pretty ill thought out anyway. Now I'm doing a strange fusion of Grid Wars and Phage Wars for my assignment instead.

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 Post subject: Re: Storm Shinobi's STUFFs
PostPosted: September 4th, 2011, 11:56 am 
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Storm_Shinobi wrote:
Now I'm doing a strange fusion of Grid Wars and Phage Wars for my assignment instead.

Good luck - I'm looking forward to it.

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 Post subject: Re: Storm Shinobi's STUFFs
PostPosted: September 21st, 2011, 5:55 am 
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I decided to turn that teen drama idea I had back then to feature young adults instead. Like college aged people. After throwing ideas around in my head, I decided to do a short passage on the heroine.

===

Rebooting the story into a different setting. I’ll start with Her Day this time.

===

As if being awakened from a dream, her awareness gradually returned. As the haze lifted away from her eyes, her senses tore away at her without mercy.

She lay on her bed, eyes wide open at the dark and empty ceiling. The only illumination in her room was a dull silver light, refracted through the translucent curtains from the window. As her eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, she started to see shapes born from the various shadows cast through the ghostly curtains.

There is nothing there. There is nothing there. There is nothing there.

She knew there was nothing besides mere shadows cast from the moonlight on the ceiling. And that was what she kept telling herself.

There is nothing there. There is nothing there. There is nothing there.

But she did not believe her own words. Glares from invisible eyes pierced through from the darkness. She felt like she was being watched from everywhere, even within a locked room in perfect solitude. Unable to bear her sight any longer, she shut her eyelids tightly. Yet perfect darkness was not what awaited her. Incomprehensible shapes and colours flashed from within her eyelids. A mottled flurry of noise continued to flicker in her vision. This was when she realized her ears were ringing.

The silence was deafening. A constant hum at a single pitch and tone played endlessly within her eardrums. And it seemed to progressively get louder, threatening to overwhelm her mind.

Her gasp for air broke through the silence. While taking long and hard breaths to drown out the silence, she felt more and more unsettled.

As if something was there.

As if the sounds of her breathing wasn’t hers.

Go away. Go away. Go away. Go away.

Her breathing became more rapid, as if in response to her irrational feelings. A wave of nausea washed over her and she responded by clasping her hands over her mouth. She could feel her hot breath washing over her fingers in an erratic rhythm. Her hands began to shake uncontrollably.

She opened her eyes again. Her dimly lit room flashed back into existence. It was the very same room she had slept in for years. Everything was placed where it belonged. But yet it all felt so unfamiliar.

Her breathing became faster and more erratic. Her throat convulsed hard enough to bring tears into her eyes. She could not calm her breathing and started to choke.

The sounds of coughing echoed throughout the room. She struggled to bring her breathing back under control. The flowing tears began to sting her eyes.

Calm down. Calm down. Calm down.

Her tears blurred her vision, causing everything to look even more alien to her than it did before. Despite her pleas to herself, she could not calm down. In an act of desperation, she bit down onto her hand.

Her hand tensed up as pain struck like lightning. She could feel the taste of copper dancing on the tip of her tongue. The pain provided little relief to the overwhelming anxiety that was flooding her. She knew she could not hold on any longer.

And so she reached out for her salvation, a bottle of pills sitting at the corner of her bedside table. Her shaking hands struggled to unscrew the cap. She could barely maintain her grip on the bottle and her tear stained vision served only to hinder her attempts at getting it open.

Please. Please. Please. Please.

At last the cap came off, falling from her hands and filling her ears with a diminishing beat as it bounced several times off the floor before rolling to a stop. And her hopes for salvation died with it.

She stared eyes wide open into the empty bottle. As feelings of dread and despair emerged, her knees buckled and she collapsed in resignation. She had already known it was empty.

It felt like she was sinking through the ground as she hugged her legs tightly. She lay paralyzed on the cold hard floor until the cocktail of anxiety, unease and dread became unbearable and caused her to scream.



Like a fish out of water, she gasped for air. Her eyes had snapped wide open and reality had once again fell back into place around her. A gentle amber shade of light lit up a different room. She began to breathe in a constant rhythm.

It was a ghost from the past, refusing to let her go. It served as a grim reminder of a personal hell she was once trapped within. The days where she fought herself in that cold and dark room. The gates to that hell were still open, threatening to swallow her up in a moment of weakness. A moment that she decided that she will never allow herself to have.

She lay for a while longer, placing an arm over her forehead. After allowing a single tear to drip down her face, she got up and braced herself for a brand new day.

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