Games and death and fantasy.

Today in real life my boss decided to put a co-worker and I at war for a super special awesome poster the store received recently. (I have the spot on my wall prim and proper and prepared and everything, right there in-between the Akatsuki and Rorschach.) Apparently, we both preordered The Master Assassin's Edition and must prove ourselves worthy of having Ezio in our room (/innuendo). Now, if this were a battle of strength or wits, and as those links are extremely related to my personal advantage, I would have kicked my competition's sorry fifteen-year-old bum from here to whatever era Assassin's Creed III will take place in, but unfortunately this war was revealed to be a matter of selling the hell out of everything our store manager tells us to. Well-played, SM. Well-played. No matter how much effort it takes, I will outsell that boy, and come November 17th, I will be taking home both my box-set of magnificence and win AND one wicked poster to boot. On an unrelated note, I also added another entry to my bucket list: to play this with true friends.

Today on the internets I officially diagnose myself helplessly addicted to Poisoned, and I don't even ship Mello/Near. Good game, Akane. Literally.

Today in fiction a horizon was born. Right now, neither Until Life nor Decent Society exist, at least not until I get my time more efficiently organized. I'm finishing the next chapter of Tensai Generation! Honest! And murder-suicide is looking like an extremely attractive option for my original series; now, to build up their characters to make the scene worth a damn.